


Not Dead Yet; A Homestuck Fan Story

by bronzerapper



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Backstory, Birds, Blood and Gore, Casteism | Hemophobia (Homestuck), Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Corruption, Cults, Death, Dreams, F/M, Hemospectrum, Impaling, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mmm Cult time, Night Terrors, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Rage, Slavery, Slaves, Troll Romance (Homestuck), Trolls (Homestuck), a shit ton of metaphors, just an oc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26148568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bronzerapper/pseuds/bronzerapper
Summary: Oh, what a pity to die. Yet what happens when you begin to relieve other ways you yourself have died? Young Vanium Mardre never thought she'd be able to find out this answer, but now she knows all too well. Life and Death are not to be toyed with, but Rage clouds the mind. Rage will always cloud the mind.
Kudos: 4





	1. Escapism

  
There’s a faint shimmering ray pouring in through the large windows. Trees lining outside the hive and looking down at the Oliveblood as she raised her arms over her head. There’s a faint hint of yelp that left her lips as she lowered to the ground only a little. It was a swift movement as the Indigo visitor stopped her hand from making contact with the Olive.   
“ Pfft, Trained it well didn’t you?” The Indigo sneered as she brought her hand to rest in her pocket. The Indigo brought her attention to another troll in the room, a slouching Purpleblood. His eyes narrowed as he gave a rather gruff chuckle.   
“ You could say that.” His eyes trailed over to the spooked Oliveblood. Who adjusted herself accordingly as she was taught. Brushing out her shirt and then putting her hands behind her back. She didn’t understand why they spoke of her in such a manner. She wasn’t an It, well not normally at least. When others came around she always became an It. Her wings adjusting behind her back just a little as she stood up with her head bowed and her eyes shut. Listening to the conversation continue.   
“ How long have you had it?”   
“ Since it was a grub, came with it’s lusus too.”   
“ Oh, I bet dealing with the Lusus was fun.”   
“ Well, The lusus is still alive, I just keep her in a room upstairs and she doesn’t bother anything except the Olive.”   
The Olive’s ears raised as she felt the ground shift under her. A rough hand placed between her curved and pointed horns and softly rubbing her head. It would’ve been a comforting motion if not for the snickers that left him. Her eyes opened as she felt the hand lift off her head, slowly looking up to the Highblood. Purple hazey eyes focused down on her as a harsh growl left the Highblood and he pointed to the door.   
“ Vanium, leave.”   
The order was hollow, and it only took her a moment before she turned and left the room. Without any other orders given, she headed up to her room. Her hand clinging to the railing as she began to walk up the steps. Careful of each step due to the long pants she was given by the previously mentioned Highblood.   
Once she reached up the steps she headed down the corridor. Many doors surrounded her, all loomed with different engravings etched into them. Some depicting faces of sheer fear and screaming trolls or clowns doing simply clown things. Even just symbols all etched together in some strange string. Most of these doors Vanium had passed many times, most she could not enter. She recalled one day when she was given her first notebook, she decided to count how many times she passed the doors in one day.   
Ninety Seven times. She passed the doors Ninety Seven times in a single day until she had to rest for dawn. Her hands remained clasped behind her back as she walked to one of the second to last doors. Opening the door, it slid on the cold floor with no resistance. Vanium peered into the darkness, her eyes now glowing like nightlights, she trailed over to the window. Leaving her door to slide back to it’s normal placement of being closed. Her room was rather empty, only a small desk and a chair, all the desks drawers removed and its sides covered in a thin purple cloth. A small worn notebook on the top of the said desk besides a barely used candle. In the corner was a metal pole holding a bird cage, which was currently covered by a blanket.   
Vanium’s recuperacoon had a decent amount of scratch marks on it’s edges, since it wasn’t hers to begin with. It belonged to another slave that the Highblood drowned in that very recuperacoon. As he once told her ‘ I got bored of them.’ The reason sends shivers down the mutants spine. On the wall hidden by a rather tattered cloth was a broken mirror.   
She approached the mirror, watching the broken glass shimmer from the faint glow of the moons outside. The window now open thanks to the small Oliveblood who didn’t seem very bothered by the darkness to begin with. Reaching a hand up she grasped the fine cloth. Pulling it slowly off the mirror to reveal the main cause of it being shattered. A large area of the glass looked like it had been punched, the spider web-like way the glass spread out from that certain area. Vanium squatted down to look at herself in the area of the Mirror that wasn’t completely destroyed.   
Short neatly cut hair that was kept just a little bit away from her shoulders. Vibrant Olive eyes that seemed rather lifeless to her when she looked at them. A white puffy under shirt like something those fancy waiters in the books she read wore. Pants that are way too long for her and some rather beat up shoes that she almost felt bad for. Vanium also had something wrong with her, at least she thought it was something wrong with her. Two large wings sprouted from the lower almost middle area of her back. They were a dark brown and a burden to her. By all accounts, she would be normal if not for these stupid wings. Her bloodcolour was normal, her appearance was normal, she had the typical strength of an Olive and she certainly wouldn’t be trapped in this hive if not for these stupid wings.   
She’s tried before to remove them. Sawing at them or trying to break the bones to where they ripped from her back and the Highblood had to take her to the hospital. Then maybe she could die and not have to live with this burden that felt she didn’t deserve. They never worked of course, the pain became unbearable or the Highblood came in at just the perfect time to stop her. Though the thoughts that came with the idea she didn’t deserve it, they felt selfish. The other trolls that work outside, they all are treated like utter dirt under the Highbloods nails. He had no care for them, and yet he coddled her for these wings. He let her sleep inside and gave her a life she’d never have if not for him buying her. Vanium never asked to be made, she never asked to be a Mothergrubs fuck up.   
Vanium sat on the ground before the mirror, her arms folding over her knees as she stared at herself. Her body always felt cold and achy, one downside to being inside is that you can’t sneak food easily. Her arms, her legs, everything was small. The only thing she had that wasn’t small was her wings, but they were just skin, feathers, and bones all weaved together to allow her to fly. Even then her flying is seen as entertainment to the Highbloods friends. It didn’t matter she was malnourished or that it hurt so badly to fly at times her tears streamed down her face. It only mattered that she could simply fly.   
Her pity party was cut short as she heard the faint thumping of the stairs as the Highblood stalked his way up. She watched the door before climbing to her feet. Dusting the shirt off her hands retreated behind her back as she looked up at the door and waited. Watching the shadows under the door shift for a moment, her wings pressed together as a spike of anxiety shot through her in one swift second.   
There was a collection of what Vanium counted to be three knocks before the door opened. The Highblood stepped into the room and then took a knee before her. Her ears raised just a little as her eyes looked him up and down. Her head was almost tempted to cock itself to the side to actually make sure her eyes weren’t tricking her.   
“ C’mere kid.”   
Her ears pricked up and she listened to the order, walking over to the Highblood and bowing her head. His hand reached up and grabbed her head, raising her head and turning her head from side to side. He was checking her for any bruises or cuts.   
“ Alright, you’re all good. No bruises today.”   
“ Do you have any orders for me, Master?”   
“ Not at the moment, Vanium.”   
He always seemed to hesitate when saying her name. Something she had noticed when she was younger, almost like he despised the way it rolled off his tongue. His ears lowered as he stared at her eyes, there was a distant hatred that she watched boil.   
“ Is something wrong, Master?” Vanium chirped, her ears lowering ever so slightly as she leaned forward to look at his eyes. Hollow olive meeting cold purple that always seemed to be burning like an endless candle and yet it had no feeling behind it.   
“ Your eyes are empty.”   
“ Huh?-”   
Her body was suddenly lifted off the ground by the hem of her shirt. A fire of fear lighting inside of her as she scrambled to grab onto the Highbloods arm. Her wings spread and flapped just a little incase he were to drop her like he has before.   
“ Your eyes! They have no goddamn feeling in them!” His voice was a vicious snarl. It pried itself from his throat and he held her out. Bracing a punch it would appear, he watched her eyes the entire time. Watching them widen and then become small and well with tears.   
“ M-Master please.”   
The Oliveblood pleaded as she shook her head, fumbling with words in her mind as her dull nails dug into his skin. Her mind raced, she needed something to prevent the pain he was about to inflict on her. Then she recalled once long ago when she was younger. Watching his arm pull back more, Vanium spoke quickly.   
“ Zoltox please don’t hurt me.”   
She sobbed out softly, her eyes were now displaying plenty of emotion. Fear and self preservation flowed through her as she watched the Highblood. Zoltox tensed, he clenched his fist and then release his grip slowly and let her fall to the ground. She fell to the ground with a small thud, scrambling to her feet as she looked up at the Highblood.   
“ Stay in here for the night.”   
“ Yes, Master.”   
Vanium spoke softly, her ears lowering as she watched the troll leave. Slamming the door behind Zoltox as he left. The cracks around the door spread just a little as Vanium sat on the ground for a moment. Her eyes welled with more tears as she brought her legs close, her olive tears running down her face slowly as she planted her head on her knees. Small hiccups leaving her as her grip on her legs got tighter. She began to sob rather softly to herself, rocking her body as her wings opened and enveloped around her.   
These times all she had to comfort herself was the rocking of her own body. These situations aren’t new of course. They are something she’s grown used to, and yet every time they happen she still enters the same state of shock. The slaves outside all got used to crying as they worked, or not crying at all. Becoming like solid teflon and not showing an ounce of pain anymore. Vanium couldn’t stop crying though, her body rocked itself as she sat on the cold ground. The faint shuffling of her Lusus as it squawked and barked for her to shut up. Which she refused to do, she never listened to the bird anyways. Listening now won’t change anything. At least that’s what she believed. Till the bird actually gave a little bit of advice.   
“ SQUAWK! If you pretend to laugh it off, it won’t hurt as much! SQUAWK!”   
Vanium pursed her lips as she looked down at the small puddles of her tears. Her reflection looking back at her with the same puffy eyed face. She cracked a small smile.   
“ H-Heh… I’m a crybaby…”   
She rubbed her eyes, it did comfort her a little. Seeing the smallest smile on her face and hearing the words made her perk up a little. The Self Degradation certainly wasn’t something to be proud of, but it was a start. Anything is better than clawing at herself in her eyes. She stood up and wiped her eyes on her shirt sleeve, which had been stained countless times with blood and tears of prior nights and times she had been treated in such a way.   
Vanium went over to the window, looking out to the trees and how they loomed over the hive. Her hands resting on the cold stone before she hoisted herself up into the window. The thin area before the actual glass was just enough to hold her there. Vanium’s eyes locked on the two moons as they just stared at the creatures below them. She wonders how it must be to linger up in the sky. Cold air all around you and the clouds all adrift. They probably feel fluffy like the odd thing she reads of called cotton candy.   
Her wings opened just a little and she quickly reached back and closed them. Her ears lowered as she gave an annoyed huff, sliding off the window sill. Her feet planting on the ground as she tapped her foot, it would’ve helped if she brought a book up here. Alas she didn’t get the chance to ask for a book tonight. She went over to her desk and sat down on the small stool. Looking at the candle that seemed rather fresh. It was almost pointless to have it there, since she had to ask for the candle to be lit. Fiddling around under the desk, she began to search for something.   
Her hand felt around the grooves and crannies of the desk. Finally she came across the small wooden point, grabbing onto it she unlodged it from it’s small hiding place. A pencil, one that seemed pretty worn down. The erase half gone and rather dark to the many mistakes she had made with it. The point is just a little dull. Enough for her to write with as she opened her notebook.   
If she couldn’t read a book, she’d write her own. Well, she’d attempt to write one. It’s not like she’s too fluent in the language of writing due to her never actually writing half the time. She learned how to write, and read, but barely ever used the ability to write. So this would most likely be a laughable failure. 

* * *

_Vanium Mardre_   
_??:?? X/X/XXXX_   
  
_There once was a girl. She was normal, and did normal things. She went to school like a normal troll girl does. She went to her hive with her lusus like a normal troll girl does. She likes to read books and look out the window. She likes counting the trees outside. There isn’t anything the normal troll girl does that isn’t normal. She even has a lot of_   
  
  


* * *

Vanium suddenly paused her writing. This word escaped her, the word she was looking for just barely danced in the cloud of her memory. She fiddled with the pencil, nibbling on the eraser for a moment. Before promptly spitting a bit because it tasted awful. Her ears lowered as she tried to think of the word she needed. People? No. That would sound like she owns them. The Normal troll girl doesn’t own people! She’s normal! Disciples? No that sounds too much like the Troll Bible and there's no way she wants to reread that book again. It was rather boring and she could barely understand anything that happened in it.   
She leaned on the desk more, her hands digging in her hair as she gave a low growl. Why couldn’t she think of the word?! Seriously, she barely does anything and the time she finally wants to do something the word escapes her grasp? She slammed her head into the desk, which she promptly regretted. Lifting her head up she put a hand on her forehead and let out a loud whine. It was a rather comical scene to onlookers, but not to her.   
Vanium now calmly accepting the fact she wouldn’t be able to recall the word, erased the sentence.   
  


* * *

  
_The Normal Troll Girl doesn’t do anything wrong. She is perfectly normal. Everything she does is normal so it’s not wrong! She eats breakfast and sits at the table with her lusus. They both enjoy the meals. She hangs out with her lusus all the time! They’re like the best lusi and troll pairing ever! Today the normal troll girl went to the store! She got apples and red small fruit that taste sweet and smell nice. She then walked home without any worry and got to her normal hive with her normal lusus and got to do super normal things!_   
  


* * *

Vanium stared down at the page, her pencil now sitting on the corner of the thin page. Her eyes welled with tears again as she reread the story over and over. Her fangs dug into her bottom lip as she tucked the pencil back into its hiding spot and closed the notebook. The Normal Troll girl was everything she wanted to be. She wanted to be normal, and do super normal things. Her wings shifted behind her, a consistent reminder as to why she couldn’t be normal. Stupid fucking wings. Stupid fucking Mother grub. Why did she have to live? She never asked to be born in the first place.   
She rose to her feet and went over to her recoopracoon. Stepping into the slime and slinking down into it. She heard the muffled squawks of her Lusus.   
“ SQUAWK! Won’t you read me your story? SQUAWK!”   
“ No. Shut up.”   
“ SQUAWK! Respect your elders young lady! SQUAWK!”   
“ Sorry…”   
She barely shifted her voice pitch of being cold and distant. Vanium was upset, she didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to read her stupid story about Normal Troll Girl. She didn’t wanna hear her Lusi bitch and complain about her story. About her escape from reality, how bad it was. Vanium let her head dip under the slime after taking a sharp breath. Her ears lowered as she let herself be taken by sleep. Sleep comforted her more than rocking, or this newfound laughing it off. Her body relaxed as she now disappeared under the slime. The fear of being drowned in her sleep lingering in her mind as she entered into the realm of dreams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think of my writing!  
> I'm always down to improve it and I'm just excited to be writing this finally!


	2. Temporary Haphephobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dreams of a troll can truly be suffocating.

  
Though, even her dreams weren’t safe from the torment that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. What was it tonight? Another dream of dying? Of falling into the abyss like she had done so many times before?   
  
_It’s dark, everything feels like liquid. There’s a distinct shouting in the distance as Vanium felt a heavy chain on her leg. Looking down she saw her leg was being held onto by another troll. One with eyes of sheer cold glass. Milky white with no feeling, they were dead. Yet their strength was intense, gripping her ankle she began to kick at them. Her wings thrashing in the dark murky water around her._  
 _She tried to scream at them, to make them let go. Screaming at a dead body wouldn’t warrant a response of course, and screaming under the water wasn’t gonna save her. It only brought the slick liquid into her lungs. Her wings kept flapping under her as she tried to get closer to the surface. The pressure in her body to exhale was getting intense. Her leg still kicking at the troll clinging onto her. Vanium began to try and cut through the water, and it felt like she was moving for a moment. Yet suddenly the water was thick, it was suffocating. A deep olive green now all around her, blood. Her eyes grew panicked and wild as she began to try and swim towards the ever-fading surface. Her body gave out on her._  
 _Her mouth opened and she took a sharp breath, inhaling the thick liquid and coughing out bubbles. Her body started to twitch in ways she couldn’t control. Her wings wouldn’t listen to her anymore, her brain starting to shut down. Her arms now suspended in the thick liquid as her head began to fall due to gravity. Her eyes glossing over as thin bubbles left her mouth. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to be stuck here dying in an ocean of her own blood. Then the dream disappeared into the darkness. Everything now dark and cold as her dream-self just sat there._   
  
That was how most dreams ended, she lived some demented death that felt too realistic for her. It felt like she was truly suffocating, or at least a version of her was. They never wore the same clothes, or they did and they were covered in blood. Sometimes the versions of herself would talk to her. Those times she felt like she was lucid dreaming. They would pull themselves from her perspective, and stand before her. Bloodied, drowned, gruesomely mangled in some unholy manner that was traumatizing if it wasn’t a dream. They all were different, some pessimistic, and some optimistic. Some told her that life wouldn’t be kind. That it would butcher her alive and spit her out without a care.   
Others spoke of the friends she’d make and how much fun she’d have. Friends… That was the word she was missing from earlier! Such a pity she recalled it when she was asleep. There was one version of herself that actually looked like her. Short hair and a weird jacket, she looked rather happy if not for the large yet clean gash in her neck. She was always pleasant. So Vanium tended to enjoy those dreams with that version of herself.   
Vanium wouldn’t be able to fondly recall these dreams for long. Her body suddenly jolted away as she sat up in her recoopracoon. The faint beams of twilight peaking into her respiteblock. Vanium rubbed her eyes and gave a small yawn. Stepping out of the recoopracoon she began to stretch. She looked at her clothes, and looked towards the door. No new clothes. That must be her punishment along with being locked in her room for the rest of the night yesterday. She quietly went over to the window and climbed onto it. Looking down at the ground for once to see how the others were doing.   
Slaves were working as per usual, many hunched over or on their knees. Burgundy, Gold, Bronze, Olive, even a few Tealbloods sprinkled in the mix. Vanium gave a small wave to them, and they gave a small wave back. Others ignored her, they had no care for one of their own who was pampered. Her ears lowered just a bit before she then hopped off the window sill. Landing on her feet, she gave a tiny surprised smile.   
The first time she hasn’t instantly fallen down when landing or wobbled. She landed firmly on her feet, it brought a grand smile to her face. She strode over to the door, riding the high of glee she got from the very simple achievement.   
She entered the hallway and looked at the many doors that lined the hallway, they seemed a bit happier today. The window behind her casting the sweet rays of the moons upon them as she began to walk down the large corridor. There was actually another upstairs, one she wasn’t permitted to go up to, but it didn’t bother her. Vanium was actually rather chipper, all from that simple achievement. Starting to descend down the steps silently, she paused. Her ears pricked up and her head raised as she heard a faint chatter.   
“ So it’s part bird?”   
“ Yes it is, It has a color you don’t see often anymore.”   
“ What? Pink?”   
“ Please, don’t make me laugh. We see pink all the time nowadays. That stupid Heiress with her idiotic drinks and marketing?”   
“ Heeey, I thought you were always one to be on The Heiress’ side. You’re like a loyal guard dog!”   
“ Call me a dog again and I’ll bite you.”   
She recognized the banter, The Highbloods kismesis was here today. Her ears lowered as she now took on a solemn look. Her face became neutral as her hands came to hide behind her back. Vanium straightened her back and began to continue her descent. Entering the living quarters she saw the Violet blood sitting on the couch. The Highblood beside her as a gruff laughter came from him. It rolled from his throat and stung Vanium’s ears.   
“ Well look who finally woke up.”   
“ Ah! Brown! That is a strange color. I wonder what caused such discoloration. Maybe the Mothergrub was shaken up like an alcoholic drink and this is the result! If so, excuse me Bartender, I think you made this one wrong.~”   
The Violetblood came over and flicked Vanium in the head. Stalking around her as she took in the small Mutants features. Her fins flaring up as she suddenly stopped behind Vanium. The Olive became tense, why would she stop behind her? Was she going to get hit in the back of the head? Her hands unclasped from behind her back and she began to prepare herself to be hit.   
Then there was a cold hand on her neck. Right over a small scar that lined the bumps of her spine. Vanium’s entire body tensed. It was like someone had just taken a picture with their flash on. She was stunned in place.   
“ Calm down, I won’t hurt you. I’m simply looking you over.”   
The Violet cooed sweetly, that voice was bittersweet. She let her hands trail down Vanium’s back and touch the base of her wings. Vanium’s wings opened a little, involuntarily as she began to freeze up even more. There was a sharp breath that was caught in her throat, it was cold. Everything now felt cold, her body felt like it was overheating and yet also shivering. The Violet’s touch continued to run over her feathers. Vanium’s eyes began to well with tears as a faded and faint blush drifted onto her face. She didn’t like this. Why was the violet blood touching her there? Why did it feel so wrong? Vanium began to shiver, attempting to move only resulted in her legs buckling in place.   
Her eyes closed as she shook her head slowly. The Highblood seemed to notice this, his brows furrowing as he rose to his feet. The Violet continued to inspect the inner core of Vanium’s wings. Moving a little bit of her shirt to see how the wings protruded out of her skin. Her webbed hands tracing over the feathers with a delicate touch. She noticed the shivers that it seemed to invoke from Vanium, and so she pressed a bit harder.   
Though the response she got certainly startled the Violetblood. The Oliveblood’s wings sprung open and she fell to the ground. Covering her head and cowering as she began to scream out. She screamed loud and for a good amount of time. It was a piercing sound, one unlike that of a normal trolls scream. It was shrill and shot sharp pains into both the Highblood and the Violet’s ears. The Violet falling to her knees and then backward, kicking herself back from Vanium as she thrashed.   
“ MAKE IT SHUT UP FOR THE LOVE OF GOG!”   
The Highblood found himself leaning on a nearby wall as one of his hands covered his ear. He growled and yelled over Vanium to shut up. The scream suddenly became silent. It remained silent for a moment beside the faint shuffling of the Violetblood on the ground. Vanium’s face was flushed, a deep olive spread over her cheeks and the tip of her nose, tears began to fall from her eyes. She brought her hands down from the top of her head and rested them on the ground. Laying her head upon them as she became to sob softly to herself. She didn’t like the touching, she didn’t want anyone to touch her. Her body shook as she inhaled and then let out more harsh sobs. She continued to sob for a good while, her voice turning raw as she sputtered up spit. Snot pouring from her nose on the ground as she listened to the shuffling around her. Her wings now pressed back against her as she shook.   
Whatever that touch invoked in her was not meant to be invoked by a stranger. Her body trembled as she heard the distinct click of the door shutting. The floor shifted near her as she looked through strands of her hair. Two rough hands now gently picking her up and sitting her upright. Zoltox stared at her, his face grim as he looked down at the sobbing mess that was Vanium.   
He grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose before calmly opening one of his arms. Looking to the side with a rather annoyed glare in his eyes.   
“ C’mere kid. You’re scared.”   
Vanium stared at his open arm for a moment, her eyes darting between his face and then the open arm. She quietly crawled towards him, and then hugged the Highbloods. Zoltox brought an arm around her and softly rubbed her arm. Shooshing her all the while as he stared at the ground. This act of affection was the first Vanium had received from him in ages. The last time being when he wrapped up her wounds from her clawing herself. Her ears lowered as she began to calm down slowly. Breath shaky as she pressed into his chest, her horns just barely digging into his shoulder. Though he dealt with the pain for now, he didn’t want to see the poor thing so distraught. He kept his arm up from touching her wings, just leaving them be. He really didn’t want his ears to be invaded by Vanium’s piercing shriek.   
“ You got some pipes on ya’.”   
“ H-Huh?...”   
“ Your voice is loud.”   
“ I-I’m sorry, Master.”   
She murmured, a hand coming to her lips as she nibbled on the nail. That explained why her nails were dull. Vanium coiled herself into a ball just enough so that she could lay against the Highblood, but still had her wings comfortable. The Highblood certainly wasn’t someone who gave her comfort often, he didn’t look like someone who liked comforting others to begin with. A surly face and being a kind and gentle person typically didn’t pair together well. Along with the fact she was a lowblood, it didn’t help her case. Well, in her eyes she was a midblood and that saved her skin just a little. In reality to him, everyone was a lowblood except his kismesis and the Heiress.   
The mutant took a slow breath, her throat was raw and she could feel it now. Each breath she took had a faint sting to it. Her eyelids started to feel heavy as she slumped down in the Purplebloods grasp. Zoltox held her for a few moments longer, watching the Olive start to fall asleep. His eyes softened ever so slightly as he watched the faint Olive that swirled in her eyes. It soothed him inside. Something he’d never verbally admit. 


	3. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To reflect on one's world must mean to reflect on one's self as well.

  
Zoltox wasn’t a bad guy, at least not in his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t be a bad guy in his eyes. He sees himself as a simple Highblood doing what Highbloods have always done. Dominated the caste system and use that to their advantage. Though he had a soft spot for Olives. He always had a soft spot for them, ever since he met her. Not Vanium, another Oliveblood. One from sweeps ago, one that he was rather proud to call his matesprit. Yet the sudden thought of the Olive from so long ago caused him to tense. Vanium had now drifted into the grasp of sleep once again. Zoltox picked her up and brought her over to rest on the couch. Stroking a lock of her short hair neatly behind her ear and standing up straight.   
A heavy sigh left his lips as he started towards the steps. His ears lowered as he shoved his hands into his pockets. The thought of the Olive drove him up the steps, each step he took with meaning. He then turned and headed down the hallway, eventually reaching the second set of steps and heading up them. Entering the large third floor, it only had a few rooms, mainly being an area where Zoltox wallowed his life away. He can’t count how many times he’s spent days simply laying on the ground, or on the shabby bed in the corner. At least it was like a bed to him. Zoltox brought himself over to a room with a lock on the door.    
Fumbling around in his pocket he pulled out a small key. It slid into the lock with no resistance whatsoever. He’s practiced the motion many times before. Turning the key and letting the lock come undone in his hand. He slid it off the door and entered the room.   
It’s a cold dead area with stuffy air and a few candles that burned with no scent. Zoltox stepped up to the small bench he had installed in the room. Sitting upon it was a book, a few old ripped up writings and blurry paintings and old newspapers. Writings of a rebellion of genetic soldiers created for the Empress. Writings of the group he himself was apart of from a young age. He opened the book and began to skim through the pages.   
Writings in old alternian tongue, many of the words now forgotten or outdated in this day's standards. Zoltox had taught Vanium the olden tongue of Alternia, the original tongue that he had grown up with. He felt he had done the girl a favor, opening to a page of something he was already used to. Displayed on the page drawn in old yet crisp lines, was a woman. Dark hair that would drape well past her shoulders. A long dress seemingly made of the same piece of cloth draped over her body. Sharp Olive eyes looking towards the viewer as large white wings rested upon her back. Spread out just a little as Zoltox stared at the drawing. He knew the wings were white, as his eyes were now drawn to a white feather.   
It was neatly tucked in with a letter that seemed rather beat up. The name of the sender being ‘ Jargon Marclox’. A Highblood who created the group in order to worship the beings of the olden times. Zoltox didn’t receive the letter himself, rather his ancestor did, and this was one of the things he obtained from his ancestor. His breath was shallow as he continued to turn the page. The book went on for a bit, describing a fight between that of a Reaper and a leader with a bird troll in the mix. His lips pulled back into a snarl, Brutus Mardre. Or ‘ The Revelator’ as she dubbed herself after escaping the group with the Rebels leader. This very book was her own writing. The drawings were taken as gifts from others, and that was why their styles became so different at times.    
His fingers fiddled with the edge of the page, tempted to rip the book apart. Yet he restrained himself to keep history intact. The Highblood narrowed his eyes as he read the second to last page of the book. The names of the other members, and their descendants. His eyes narrowed, he looked down at the small Olive writing on the last line.    
  


  


* * *

  
Brutus Mardre - Vanium Mardre

  


  


* * *

  


Zoltox let out a loud growl at the words, just the words alone sparked something in him. A bitter flame that could easily be fanned into an unruly forest fire. That devil troll had a descendant who seemed so innocent. Although, when he reflects on his ancestors' writings of Brutus, it did fit. Speaking of the writings, Zoltox turned his head to the nearby collection of papers. Walking over he then began to shift through the papers. His hand eventually finding a tattered paper that he lifted up and brought over to the candle light to read.   
  


  


* * *

  


??:??   
XX/XX/XXXX   
  
There in the cage like always is the lowblood offering. Today she was particularly interested in looking at our new mutual. A new face she hasn’t seen before seemed to thrill her. Jargon of course had to continuously tap on her cages bars. It seems the Offering tends to drift off of her placing at times to just stare. Almost like her mind is adrift during the sermons. I find it to be quite disrespectful on her part. Though the idea that this angel could even comprehend the ideas and concepts of troll respect and disrespect seems to flee my mind at these times. Her wings seem a bit more frail today, perhaps she had broken a bone in it? It’s hard to tell through her quick movements and her being so far away. No one is allowed near her for long, the only time we may enter that area upon the stage is during our prayers when a fellow member falls victim to the natural ways of life. Even then, Jargon watches us all like a hawk. The comparison makes me chuckle just a little, a Hawk and the small Angel. Truly a silly thing to believe. 

  


* * *

  


Zoltox found comfort in his Ancestors commentary about those kinds of trivial things. He always wondered what the descendant of this so-called Jargon may be. Perhaps he runs another version of the group, but that may be impossible without the bird. Zoltox has the bird, his reasoning being simple and straightforward.  She looked like his matesprit.   
Certainly not his proudest reasoning for adopting the mutant into his life to become a slave, but that was the only true reason his mind drew to. Every other reason he told himself was a bullshit lie and he knew it. Short hair and the frailness of her body, it reminded him of his matesprit. Even if according to the writings and drawings, Brutus and Vanium would be nearly identical if not for Vanium having her wings being a deep brown. Zoltox shuddered just a bit as he put the paper down and let out a low growl.    
“ Fucking stupid.”   
That’s what he thought of Brutus. That’s what he believed her entire being was, an idiotic mistake. The Angel was gifted a brain and sometimes he wanted to go back in time to grab that pretty little head of hers and slam it down on the bars of her cage. A sigh left him after a moment, the anger dying down as he started to fix the papers back up, and close the book.    
“ The kid did nothing wrong. She’s still a kid.”   
Zoltox had started calling her kid as a way to remind himself of this. That she wasn’t as bad as Brutus, and she wasn’t Brutus to a T. His ears lowered as he began to blow out the candles. The Highblood was keeping Vanium alive for another reason. One that made him feel a little ashamed he bought her in the first place. When she was old enough, she would be brought to the remaining members of the group, and they would sacrifice her. They would make her fulfill the role her ancestor had abandoned. He almost felt a shred of guilt that he would raise her like an animal for slaughter.   
He couldn’t dwell on this fact for much longer as he felt the impending silence seeping around him. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the lock and stepped out of the room. Turning around and swiftly locking the door without any hesitation. Starting to trudge through his room with a clear point of where he was going. Heading down the steps he heard the faint thud of a body on the ground. 


	4. Axing time away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoltox and Vanium have a rather unpleasant exchange, and so she passes the time.

  
Entering the living block he saw the mutant tossing and turning on the ground. Her wings opening and slamming the objects around her. Zoltox narrowed his eyes as he watched the Oliveblood be ensnared in the trap of Night Terrors. That’s why trolls slept in recuperacoons’ and not outside of them unless they were truly that tired. The Highblood stalked his way over to her and raised a hand, she was still a part of Brutus. He brought his hand down and smacked the Olive.    
Vanium’s eyes shot open as the smack sent her face into the ground and her wings fluffed up for a mere moment as she looked up at him. His hand returned to being raised in the air, his dark eyes now had the faintest tinge of Red-orange that tainted his sclera. Her body trembled as she was quick to get to her feet and bowed her head.    
“ I-I’m sorry, Master!”   
Her lower lip trembled as she looked at the ground, almost shouting the words as she prayed to not be hit again.    
“ Shut up. Go help the others outside.” He barked to her, Vanium’s wings opened and she flew over him. Something he had yet to see her do, fly over the tips of his horns. A soft breeze hitting his face as he heard her hit the ground and run out the door, it clicking softly behind her.   
Vanium spread her wings and flew to the fields, meeting up with a few of the other slaves. They looked at the young troll in her panic. A goldblood offering her apron to wipe the young ones tears. Vanium shook her head as she took a deep breath and then looked up to the others.   
“ What are we doing today?”   
“ We’re chopping wood to stock up for winter, I don’t think it’s work fit for a child. You can help the Bronzes count-”   
“ Where’s an axe?”   
The burgundy was taken aback by the calm way Vanium spoke. The way she looked up at him with such a dead stare. It was a cold glare, one a sheer emptiness. He brought her over to where a few other Burgundys stood. They all seemed a bit puzzled why the kid was there, why she seemed so monotone in every motion she made. They would assume this was a new behavior, but they’ve seen this before. They’ve seen the light of life drain from her eyes and fizzle into nothing. Replaced by a cold dead stare that had very little emotion in it. It was like someone else was using her like a small puppet. Her frail legs like glass as she walked up to the chopping block.    
Small hands wrapped around the axe, the weight almost set her body off balance. The nearby Burgundys offered to catch her if she fell. Their hands outstretched, worn and some raw but still offering to catch the fellow slave. Vanium motioned for a few of them to step back, it was almost in a dismissive manner. They took a few steps back, their eyes darting to look at each other in a mixture of concern and worry. They didn’t want the troll to hurt herself or send the axe flying like she has before. Last time after that incident they doubted that the Highblood would be as merciful.   
The small Oliveblood reeled the Axe backwards, and slammed it down into the piece of wood. The blade sliced into the wood a decent amount, the wood now shaking from Vanium’s unsteady grip on the axe. She unlodged the axe and continued to reel it back and slam it down. She continued on for a few wood pieces, hacking them to bits as she felt eyes boring into her. All around her the eyes of the burgundys focused, a few returning to the work assigned to them and a few lingering around to make sure she didn’t hurt herself. Or hurt anyone else.   
There was a distinct feeling of predatory eyes upon her body. The Highblood was peering at her through the window, each swing she made he watched her body shift. Her muscles in her arms tighten as she reeled the axe back. Her chest heaving as labored pants left her lips, his eyes narrowing as he focused on every detail of her body. For a reject of an angel she still had an odd aura of cool collected beauty. Her determined eyes made him recall his Matesprit. Her strong determined personality, the way she looked, picking flowers in the garden. Her short hair whirling like cattails in the wind, how she smiled at him even when he was at his lowest times. When he had done such corrupt things…    
The Highblood suddenly tensed, even bone in his body froze as a scroll fixed itself upon his face. Roaring he grabbed the table he was sitting at and threw it. It slammed into a nearby wall and fell to the ground, clattering into a jagged splint of itself. The legs of the table are now broken and the face now broken in three different places. Thick unruly cracks stream across it’s worn down finish. His angered breath left him in harsh quick breaths. He called from slaves to come and clean up his destruction as he stormed upstairs.    
Vanium looked to the window as she heard his yell. Her ears raised as she had brought a final chop down onto a piece of wood. It split in two and clattered to the ground, a bronze coming to pick up the pieces before promptly turning his own head to the window. The Oliveblood stared at the tinted panels that made up the window. The glass reflecting her own messy state, ragged breaths leaving her lips as she felt a sting in her hands. Her hands were now turning a scorched olive, the skin irritated by the consistent use of the old wooden axe’s handle.    
She let out a soft heave of a breath, a goldblood placing their hand on her shoulder and gently massaging it for a moment.   
“ Maybe you should sleep out here with us today.”   
“ M-Mhmm…”   
Vanium looked up at the Goldblood, their eyes were a faint blue color. They offered a small comforting smile and then began to lead her towards the small area the slaves slept. It was a shed that was chock full of discarded items. Tools, old paintings that didn’t fit in the basement of the Highbloods hive, broken items he had given to the slaves to fix and the fixed items all stacked neatly on a toolbench.    
Tired trolls all strown about on the ground, a few panting from the sheer exhaustion they felt. A few perking up at the sight of Vanium. She had come to the shed only prior times in tow with Zoltox. She’d watch the other slaves be whipped and slashed at, watched Zoltox pry open a troll's mouth to see if they had stolen food and then forced them to bite their own tongue off and swallow it. She was three sweeps then, and now she’s five sweeps old. Vanium was the only one that actually kept track of her wriggling day, and even then it didn’t matter if she told anyone else.   
They didn’t care if she was five sweeps or two sweeps, if she could do a job she would do it. A faint squeeze of her hand brought her back to reality as the Goldblood had presented her to a small area, covered with a thin blanket.   
“ Best thing we can offer you, young one.”   
They had a touch of sadness in their tone, kneeling down and giving her a small reassuring pap on the head. Vanium almost leaned into the touch, anything resembling affection was something she craved. It was something that her soul craved, touch and actual care. From anyone, she desired it. It was like an addiction and one that she never even had a choice in being addicted to.    
She got on her knees before laying on the ground, taking a halfway fetal position as her wings stretched out just a bit behind her. Her eyes now broke from the cold confinement, a deep sorrow filling them as she laid on the ground. Vanium’s arms intertwined around each other, unsteady breaths leaving her as her chest began to heave. She began to bawl, coiling into a ball as the Goldblood kneeled down. They began to gently stroke her hair, attempting to soothe her cries. The touch only encouraged her cries as her body screamed at her. The ache in her arms and back became more apparent, her body began to shiver as she exhausted the last of her strength. 

  



	5. Dreaming Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanium has a small time with her other self, and well... Things go downhill.

  
Her eyes fell closed as her lips remained parted, soft breath just brushing against the blanket under her. The Goldblood laying down beside her and closing their own eyes to join her in the dream realm. Vanium’s exhausted mind now only acts as a way to allow her to dream once more. Yet these dreams for her always crossed the thin line of Night terror and dream. Dancing gracefully over the seam of the horrors and beauty that dreams could bring someone.   
  
_Vanium opened her eyes, finding herself in a large cavern, the walls dripping with an unknown substance in the distance. This was going to be a pleasant dream. She knew this location, the other version of herself soon stepped out. A large gash remaining in her neck as it had always been. Her eyes a hollow and empty olive shade, stepping forward she sat down on her knees and nodded for Vanium herself to follow suit. This was the pleasant Vanium, her jacket and rather casual clothes gave it away, a small smile on her lips, it seemed like that little smile was always on her face._  
 _“ So what do you wanna talk about tonight?”_  
 _She asked in that usual calm and yet echoey voice. Whether the echo came from the cave itself or her own clear cut throat was hard to pick apart. Vanium pondered, pressing a thumb to her bottom lip as her ears lowered, getting lost in thought before perking up._  
 _“ You said a blue troll tried to sacrifice himself for you, who was he?”_  
 _The other Vanium tensed, her smile faltering for a second. As if she hadn’t expected this to come up now. Her mouth opened, and then closed, pinching her tongue between her teeth as her cheeks puffed up for a moment. Searching for the words to describe her friend before she spoke again._  
 _“ His name was Duspis, I called him Dus for a while. Since, unlike you, I grew up in the wilderness without any actual trolls around. So my vocabulary was rather limited until I got tossed into a school for ‘ salavagables ‘.”_  
 _This made Vanium look at the space behind her, no wings. Nothing. Just the empty air and the cave walls. She looked almost normal if not for the whole being dead thing._  
 _“ He was kind to me, well, as kind as he could be. Looking back on it I really am grateful for his help. I just wish I could’ve shown my gratitude while I was alive.”_  
 _“ Don’t you see him in the afterlife? Isn’t he wandering around like you?”_  
 _“ I thought that too, but there isn’t my version of him. Sure there are a few versions of him that I’ve run into. Some are hostile, some seem rather nice to be around. I don’t know what happened to my version of him. It’s like when I died he just disappeared.”_  
 _There’s a faint sadness that graces her face, her ears lowering. Vanium almost wanted to comfort the dead troll, but there was a sudden smile on her face. She raised her head and wiped her eyes. Did ghosts cry?_  
 _“ He was my first real friend. I don’t think I would’ve asked for anyone else!”_  
 _“ What’s your last memory of him?”_  
 _“ My last memory?.. Aw gee that was a long time ago. It was in this cave, there was an intimidating troll standing in the entrance with this big Scythe. She cut off my wings, and sent me to the school. She’s fairly bad from what I remember, or at least the ghost that used her was. I got to meet the troll host only a little bit after I died. She was a little mean since, I’m a mutant and stuff in her eyes. Though it was nice to talk to someone from my own timeline.”_  
 _“ You’re going off again.”_  
 _“ Oh right! So, She brought me to the cave. She was using me against Dus to spark some reaction from him. Like she wanted to watch him beg for mercy. He said I had no part in it, that I wasn’t taking sides. She put her scythe to my neck and he started to plead to her… Her face, I hate the face she made. It was gross, like she was getting off on the fear and misery she caused.”_  
 _“ Ew.”_  
 _“ I know. His pleading did get her to let me go, and she kicked me towards him in the air. I almost knocked him over a little, and I feel bad for that. Dus hugged me, and he told me that he wanted me to live. He apologized to me and I never got to say I accepted it. He said he was okay with dying…”_  
 _Her ears lowered as the memory began to fizzle behind her. Vanium’s wings opened as she watched the memory form, it was only clear in a few pieces. The bare figures standing in their places. The version of herself sniffled, tears starting to form in her cold hollow eyes. Her voice started to crack and her eyes began to puff up._  
 _“ I-I didn’t get to say anything back. I wish I did. I wish I got to say I was glad to be his friend, that he didn’t need to die for me. I didn’t get to say goodbye, I didn’t get to say anything to him. I just remember looking up after he pushed me behind him and suddenly the world turned white, and then black.”_  
 _Her voice was starting to crackle like a burning fire. Tears falling on the stone as the memory disappeared behind her. Hands coming up to hold her face as she began to cry. Vanium was familiar with the sound of squeaky sobs leaving herself, but this version of herself was older. Both in life and in death. Her voice was full of a sorrow Vanium had yet to feel, and something she never wanted to feel._  
 _“ Calm down, I don’t think he’d want you to cry over him.”_  
 _Her voice was emotionless. How was she meant to comfort a simple ghost version of herself? She didn’t even have any experience in comfort from others. Let alone did she know how to handle something so complex._  
 _“ P-Probably not.”_  
 _The other chuckled, wiping her eyes before looking up at the younger version of herself. A soft rather pitiful look in her eyes_  
 _“ You’re just a kid, I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”_  
 _“ N-No! It’s fine, I can handle it!”_  
 _Vanium nodded quickly, her hands coming up as she looked at the ghost. Feeling the ground around her quiver for a moment. The other version of herself perking up as she then scrambled to her feet. Vanium remained on the ground as she watched the dead version of herself panic._  
 _“ S-See you soon!”_  
 _She waved to the alive version of herself, and suddenly was just gone. Her body disappeared like a shadow when the sunlight hit it._   
  
Vanium opened her eyes slowly, finding herself on the ground earlier. Throat throbbing as she simply laid in the silence of the twilight. Slow breaths left her, her way of avoiding the pain it brought her as the air passed through her throat. There were more trolls scattered around her on the ground. Some nestled together to keep warmth, others sprawled out in the moonlight. Almost like a purr-beast moonbathing during the night.   
Her eyes trailed over to the hive, she could just barely see it out the corner of her eye. The shed’s door opens only a little to allow a bit of ventilation. She could see the lights were still glowing, the faint purple flicking as the candles. Her eyes trailed back over to the shabby walls, scratch marks lining all of them, and punch holes to match.   
It would appear she wasn’t alone in this odd feeling, this feeling of undeserved punishment. A feeling of regret, for existence, for every mistake, forever apologizing to the higher ones. There was a faint burning within her. A dim candle sitting in a cold window that was her core. Anger? No. Sheer rage, it burned subtly within her, something she rarely acknowledged. Every story she read the character who got angry always ended up being crazy, insane, or became the villain.   
Vanium opted to ignore her small candle, it would remain in that window of her soul. Always sitting and watching the snow fall outside with its small wick just barely able to hold the small flame. Always shunned away in favor of the snow whirling around outside it. The numb feelings that protected Vanium, she’d rather cry then let rage rule her mind.   
Crying gave her some sense of what a troll is meant to feel. That’s why she cried right? All trolls cry. Other versions of her cried. She’s seen the other slaves cry. She’s never seen The Highblood cry though. Maybe it’s only for lowbloods. The thoughts that began to plague her mind made her tense up. Biting her lip as her wings began to press close to her body and her nails started to dig into her arms. She stopped herself after a minute. She doesn’t wanna have to deal with the marks again. Sometimes when they scabbed over she started to pick at them and the Highblood warned her they would make scars on her skin.   
So now to distract herself she needed a story. She didn’t have a notebook or a pencil, and she really didn’t wanna talk to the Highblood. Her mind began to wander and string words together for her to imagine a story just to herself.

* * *

_Normal Troll Girl was gonna hang out with her friends today! Oh what joy! Friends are very important to Normal Troll girl. Her friend is a Cool troll boy! He’s so cool he wears cool glasses! Wait, do trolls wear glasses? Isn’t that just highbloods? Nevermind! He’s just cool! Normal Troll Girl and Cool troll boy are best friends and they hang out all the time! Normal Troll Girl likes to do Normal things like read and sing, and Cool Troll Boy just does cool things like… He likes whatever cool trolls like! Probably swords and stuff!_

* * *

Vanium’s concentration was broken as her mind began to wander. She thought about the troll the other her spoke of, and yet now she couldn’t think of his name. Or the odd nickname the other her mentioned. It was like every trace of the name was erased from her mind. It began to distress her as she tried to recall the name. Yet there was nothing, her mind drew a blank with each attempt to pin down the name it came to nothing.   
It’s twilight, she could leave now. She’s not constricted to the walls of the hive. The simple realization caused her eyes to widen. Inhaling a breath that stung her throat, her body never jolted up so fast before. She rose to her feet, calmly stepping over other limbs of trolls. Vanium held her breath with each movement she took, stepping out of the shed is when she finally exhaled.   
It didn’t matter to her that her voice was now hoarse and gritty, she felt like she could sing. Even in all the pain, the idea of escaping. Even if she’d be a feral troll living within the forest she’d prefer that over staying here. Staying here in this hellhole of misery and pain, maybe then she’d find an actual reason to live. Wait… She found it.   
Escape. That could be her goal, for now, to escape this place and flee out into the real world. Out into the world where no one would know her name, or what she grew up with. That she wasn’t simply an ‘ It’. Her wings opened, brushing away the crisp cold air as she braced herself against the ground. She began to flap her wings, the wind kicking up just a bit from her movements.   
Vanium lifted herself into the air, a smile growing on her face as she felt the ground give way under her. Raising herself into the air it was nice, to be flying by herself. It makes her wonder why she never tried this before. She flew a bit higher, wobbling in the air. She held out her arms and tried to balance herself in the air. It sent her spiraling a little, but she did regain balance before she hit the ground.   
Flying a little higher Vanium could almost see over the tips of the trees. When her body suddenly froze. A cold feeling seeped into her mind, invading and taking over like a parasite. It forced her body to shut down with a single echoing word.   
“ Fall.”   
Her wings clasped themselves to her back, her arms came to her sides and pinned themselves there. There was a faint stinging in her eyes as she began to fall to the ground. A harsh crunch coming from her wings as she landed on the ground. Her body remained tense, and she could feel the thumps of someone coming close. The Highblood looked down at her, eyes flashing a bright purple and a lighter purple.   
“ Tryin’ to escape, Kid? I thought you were better than that.”   
Chucklevoodoos. Something Vanium didn’t know about but all Highbloods in the purple caste could do. The ability to warp the mind of those below them, to create illusions or control their body for a certain amount of time. That was what Vanium was currently feeling right now.   
The Highblood kneeled down and picked her up, turning and starting back to the hive. Vanium laid there with tears filling her eyes. They rolled down the side of her face as she was finally taken out of the state. Only realizing this when she raised her hand up, going to smack the Highblood, and then letting her hand fall to her side.   
Vanium felt her head roll to the side, eyes glossing over as they filled with small tears.   
“ Not talkin’ huh. C’mon kid, say something to me.”   
“ . . . Something…”   
“ Really Kid.”   
“ Mhmm.”   
“ Well, you’re getting your wings plucked.”   
“ H-Huh? Master, wait don’t do that!”   
“ That sparked some reaction from you. You broke my trust kid, I thought you were gonna be my babybird forever.”   
The Highblood sneered, digging his nails into her wings as he stared down at the small Olive. Her legs dangled off his arms, the fear that sparkled within her eyes was delicious to see. His sinister grin grew as he watched her tense up from the pain. Hoarse voice and flinching, it paired together wonderfully to him. Some part of him craved that fear within the Lowbloods. How they cowered and feared him, yet the Olive eyes staring up into his made him hesitate for a moment. Averting his eyes from her as he continued to walk.   
“ This is your punishment. Since you can’t seem to understand how big of a risk it is to keep your ass around.”   
Zoltox cleared his throat, loosening his grip on her wings just a bit. One of the bones in it had most certainly broken, Vanium could feel it, and Zoltox’s hands could feel the odd protrusion in the thin layer of skin and feathers.   
“ M-Master please, I promise I’ll be good!”   
“ Shut up. I don’t care for your empty promises.”   
“ B-Bu-”   
“ I said SHUT UP.”   
He roared at her, looking to her once more his face came close to hers. She could smell the faint hint of sugar on his breath. Feel the rage radiating off his body like heat, rage consumed him and seemed to thrive off of his very presence. Vanium shut her mouth, her ears lowering and yet that seemed it wasn’t enough for him. Tossing her to the ground, he raised his leg back and stomped it onto her back. Right in between her wings in the small of her back. He pushed his weight onto her and began to scold her.   
“ C’MON YOU LITTLE SHIT. SAY SOMETHING. SAY SOME SMARTASS RESPONSE. LET’S HEAR WHAT THE LITTLE FREAK HAS GOT TO SAY FOR HERSELF. SPEAK. SPEAK MOTHERFUCKER!”   
His voice boomed over her small pleas, complaints of not being able to breathe. He lifted his foot up only a little and then knelt down, she had fallen unconscious. Not dead yet. The Highblood grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose. His face scrunching up before he kneeled down. Picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder, he headed back into the hive. His shadow crawled on the wall as he brought her over to the couch. The broken table from earlier now gone, an empty space where it once stood.   
The candles in the room caused his face to appear more dangerous and frightening. He laid her down on the couch and sat down beside her body. Resting her head on his lap he turned on the Z.V. Letting it play a random channel, some obscure reality series playing. He just needed the noise to ignore the voices in his head. The ones that spoke what some may call common sense. He was good at blocking them out, the noise was all he needed, noise and rage.   
His hand idly moved to brush through Vanium’s hair, rough claws combing through the thin strands with a focused care. Zoltox narrowed his eyes as his hand rested upon the Olive’s cheek. Soft skin that has been bruised and scratched more times than he could count. Yet it was still delicate and soft as though not a single ounce of harm ever came to it. If he ignored her wings, she looked just like the Olive from sweeps ago. It made him reflect on a memory, his body tensing as he stared down at her form.   
‘ She’s not her.’ One of the voices spoke. Zoltox snarled back in his own head. Why can’t the stupid whispers just let him pretend? The Oliveblood was all he had then, and now this mutant freak was all he has now!   
‘ She can’t replace her.’ Of course she can’t! But she’s the closest thing he has to her! No other Oliveblood looks like her. This small winged mutant is the only one who even came close.   
‘ You’ll hurt her just like you did before.’ SHUT UP.   
He let out a guttural growl, leaning forward before softly catching Vanium’s head. Almost letting her roll off the couch, his other arm going and holding her abdomen. He paused, the soft feeling under his claws, he sat back. Relaxing his grip as his hand moved. It moved up over her hip, and onto her thigh. Feeling the warmth of her body in his grip. It was pleasing to feel, the odd sensation of the warm cloth. He wanted to feel the skin under it. Wait, No... It’s wrong to touch someone while they’re asleep. His hand retracts as a low huff leaves his lips. 


	6. Plucking away at life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoltox and Vanium have a bit of an awkward moment.

  
Vanium took a good few hours before waking up. A queasiness stirring before her eyes even opened, a hand placed on her waist. Her head resting on a lap, she could feel the smallest twinges of pain in her wings. Along with the throbbing pain of the broken bone that had come from last night. Her breath was shaky as she felt a small bit of pressure, and a tiny and swift tear. It was a pluck, turning her head she looked up at Zoltox. He gave her a vile smile, and plucked another one of her feathers.   
Holding the brown feather above her face before letting it fall to the ground, when she looked at the ground, there was a small pile. It was reasonably piled with her own feathers, she would’ve started to cry. The pain, the feeling of that monstrous grin looming over her. Another bit of pressure and a tear, another one of her feathers being plucked off and falling to the ground. Her body grew numb as her mind seemed to disconnect itself from her body. The pain was just a bit too much for her right now. She shut her eyes and let her mind start to wander. Even let it dance around in the imagination that she always craved to be real. Her arm falling off from the side of the couch and gently brushing into the pile of feathers.   
  


* * *

_ The Normal Troll Girl sat in a room with Cool Troll Boy. The two were having a totally normal and yet cool conversation. “ How was your day Cool Troll Boy?” She asked. “ It was cool.” He replied. Giving her a cool smile. Normal Troll Girl then perked up and scooted over to Cool Troll Boy. Showing him her book and nodding to a part on the page. “ She likes knights! Isn’t that cool? Her love interest is a knight!” She chimed. “ Yeah, That is cool!” Cool Troll Boy grinned. He liked Normal Troll Girl and how she talked about what she liked. They were the best of friends after all! They were the best little pair. Always doing totally cool normal things together. How awesome! _

* * *

Pluck… Pluck… Pluck.   
The insistent plucking didn’t stop as her mind wandered. The Highbloods words cutting through her minds’ walk around the world and zipping it back to her and reality.   
“ There, I think that’s enough. Go get some bandages.”   
He ordered, nodding his head and wiping his hands on his pants. Smudging the touch of Olive that lingered on his fingertips. Vanium slowly sat up, pain shot through her body, every part of her wings ached and stung. It was like life wanted to watch her suffer, watch her burn like a candle with wax that doesn’t melt fast enough. Watching her burn on that small wick until her flame diminishes into nothing. She lurched forward, her wings barely opening to help maintain balance.   
The sudden shock that zipped through her body made her gasp and then almost fall over. Tripping over herself before regaining a shaky balance. She felt like crying, but she straightened her body out. Starting to the waste chute containment block, each movement felt like knives stabbing just the tip of their blades into her skin. When she entered the block her hands reached up and grabbed onto the sink. Looking at her face, she felt she looked like a mindless husk of what she normally looked like. Ruffled hair with a few of her own feathers neatly tucked into her locks of hair.   
Vanium opened the mirror cabinet and reached up, grabbing the bandages she slowly closed the mirror. Half expecting to see Zoltox standing there behind her, expecting him to grab her head and bash her skull in on the sinks cold sides that her hands held onto. There was nothing there except a broken looking young girl staring at her. One with no purpose in her eyes, one with only the craving to escape.   
Coming back out slowly, she held out the bandages to the Highblood on the couch. Keeping her almost robotic movements. Breath shallow and raucous. In the silence she could hear her own breath grinding against her raw throat. Her eyes slowly looked to the Highbloods, his eyes not focused on hers at the moment. Rather they were trailing up her body like a predator looking over it’s now wounded prey. Whatever he was thinking was truly unfathomable to her, whether he was being a sexual creep or a homicidal Highblood was something she could barely pick apart. Especially in her state of being half conscious and light headed from blood loss. The Highblood turned her around and began to unwrap the bandages.   
“ Now, you may feel a little bit of pressure.”   
What a joke. In only a swift second there was sudden sharp pain and a sickening crunch, her wing now back in place. He forcefully had readjusted her bone back into place, and now began to wrap it. Vanium felt now tears stream down her face, she was dehydrated, her body wavering in place. Ears lowering slowly as she fell back against the Highblood. He was only able to wrap a little bit of her wing, and almost tossed her off of him. A repulsed look crossed his face as he glared down at her laying atop of him. Noting her sudden pale features he slid out from under her and went to the cooking block. Coming back with a glass, he held it to her lips. Tipping it ever so slightly to allow her to drink the water. A small bit of it dribbled down the corner of her mouth and off her chin onto her white shirt.   
Vanium’s eyes fluttered open and closed as she drank the water, eventually, it was too much water for her body to handle at the moment and so she began to sputter and spit it back up. Zoltox sitting beside her and lifting her head just a little. A rather annoyed sigh leaving him.   
“ Really, Kid. You couldn’t just swallow the water?”   
“ T-Too much… I’m sorry, M-Master. Please don’t pluck anymore of my feathers.”   
“ I… I’m not gonna do that. Just let me bandage your wing.”   
Vanium gave a delirious nod, rolling over and just letting her head rest on her folded arms. The Highblood started to wrap her wings once more. She could still feel that carnivorous gaze bore into the back of her skull. Her breath was warm against her skin, while she couldn’t do really anything besides simply remain still. Listening to the unraveling of bandages and feeling the tight grip of the bandages as he tied them off.   
“ There. Now you’re all casted up.”   
No sane person or troll would call what he did to be a cast. Though if it was simply holding her bones in place, then she could live with it. He did something similar when he broke her arm. His hands wrapped around her waist, picking her up and turning her to him. His eyes traced her face, taking in each thin line and scratch. There’s an odd glint in his eyes, one the small troll hadn’t seen before. It was something demented and rotten, something distant that lingered within the deep purple orbs of his eyes.   
“ C-Can I go to my room?”   
She spoke in a quivering voice, the Highblood now giving her face a small squeeze. He could easily snap her jaw apart, right down the middle without any trouble. Olive green spraying everywhere like confetti.   
“ Yeah… Go ahead, Kid.”   
Vanium slowly reached up, her fingers digging under his palm and prying his hands off her face. The Olive slowly stood up, holding his shoulder for a moment to balance herself before starting towards the steps. Her hands visibly shook, lacing her fingers gingerly around the rail. She began to pull herself up the steps. She trudged through the hallway and past the grimm doors. Reaching her room her hand grabbed the cold doorknob and turned it.   
Vanium entered her room, turning swiftly she shut the door. A small squawk leaving the covered up cage.   
“ SQUAWK! Where were you!? SQUAWK!”   
“ I don’t wanna talk about it.”   
“ SQUAWK! Young Lady, take this cloth off the cage this instant! SQUAWK!”   
“ No, I look like a cluck-beast got ran over and they sewed the wings onto me.”   
“ SQUAWK! Now there’s no need to be so dramatic. SQUAWK!”   
“ It was a joke, weren’t you the one who told me to laugh things off? Well haha, I’m laughing it off the only way I know how.”   
“ SQUAWK! Fair enough. SQUAWK!”   
Vanium stumbled over to her recuperacoon, her hands grabbing the side and then pulling herself over the side. Dunking her body into the slime, letting it flow over her body as she now just laid in it. Ears lowered as small air bubbles left her mouth. She wished she could stay in this state, unconscious and numb as the slime began to enter her system through her lips. It was like Morphine was being coated all over her body, dulling the pain in her wings and throat ever so slightly. Vanium began to slink down into her recuperacoon, her head laying on the bottom as she began to fall into the numbing and sweet release of sleep.


	7. Unraveling Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanium does a little snooping.

  
Months pass, the freezing temperatures challenging most trolls and lusi before forcing them to take shelter in their hives. The slaves taking shelter inside their small shed. It barely contained all of them, opting to switch out a few guarding the door. Regulating those who stepped out and came in so that none of them became too cold or froze to death.    
Vanium’s wing was healed now, small feathers growing in place of where her old ones had been plucked out. This would cause an uneven texture if someone were to run their hand over her wings. She stood in the kitchen quietly putting her head on the counter to watch the flames dance under the kettle. Watching the flames lick needily at the metal, and yet it did not give way. Simply resting in place without a care in the world as the flame continued to lick away.    
Eventually the kettle began to whistle a soft song, Vanium’s ears rising as she then moved to grab a rag. Picking up the small wooden handle that she certainly didn’t trust, she turned off the stove top. The flames went out with a hushed cry. Vanium turned around to a rather large kitchen island, a small cup with a tiny flower resting in it. She poured the boiling water into the cup and then set the kettle on top of an oven mit.    
“ Kiiiid. Where the fuck is that tea?”   
“ Right here, Master!”   
Vanium called to the other room, a sick Zoltox laying on the couch with a cold towel on top of his head. Flipping through the T.V channels with a small groan, as he looked to the large arched doorway that led to the cooking block. The Oliveblood entered the room holding the cup carefully, blowing on it to try and cool it down. The pink and yellow flower floating in it, tinting the water a soft blue. She kneeled down beside him, once she found the drink to be cool enough, she held it to his lips. He took a few sips, swallowing the liquid without a second thought.   
“ Thanks, Kid.”   
“ Of course, Master!”   
She cooed out, setting the cup down on the small table beside the couch. Stroking his hair softly, long untamed locks that trailed well behind him. It was almost like his own cape. Her wings adjusted behind her just a little as she rested on her knees. There in the faint noise of the TV, she could hear his purring. The faint rumbling that came from his throat vibrated through his body. She brought her hand away from his hair, still feeling the odd vibration in her fingertips. He was asleep, knocked out like a light.   
The bird troll inhaled a small breath, and then exhaled slowly. Her eyes softened as she turned around and looked to the Z.V. Outside the whirling winds of a storm grew, a blizzard was incoming. Her head turned from the Z.V after a moment to look at the window. The panes now had the corners glossed in a thin sheet of ice. Vanium stood up and made her way over to the candle in the window, looking down at it’s small flame, it flickered and wavered. The whistle of the wind just on the other side of the glass.    
Vanium picked up the small candle, holding it by it’s small tray, and bringing it over to the table beside the Highblood. Setting it down she took a small step back. Looking at the small flame that seemed much happier here than by the cold window, she smiled to herself. She found the joy in making the small flame happy. Her tiny fangs peeking from her lips before she kneeled down by the couch. Bringing her legs close to her body she turned her attention back to the Z.V. Her arms looped around her legs as she watched the screen. It reflected in her eyes and seemed to even sparkle a little with that child-like amusement.   
This amusement continued until the screen went dark, the blizzard now strong enough it knocked out the power. Vanium was fine sitting in the darkness, her eyes being the only thing that could peer into the darkness. Almost like a cartoon character when the lights went out on the screen. She sat there for a while, sitting and listening to the noises around her.   
The distant wails of the slaves outside, the whisper of the wind all around her. Rocking her body softly as she cracked a small smile and rubbed her arms.    
“ I feel like a chirpbeast frozen treat.”   
She murmured to herself, seeing her breath leave her lips. Rocking herself just a little as the whisper of the wind turned into a mighty howl. It didn’t disrupt Zoltox of course, he slept through all of it without care. Soft snores and snorts leaving him as he remained in the grasps of sleep. Her quiet listening was soon interrupted by a loud thud coming from upstairs. She looked at Zoltox, fast asleep and quietly snoring beside her.   
Her ears raised as she looked to the steps, she didn’t want to get yelled at for a mess, so she hoisted herself to her feet. Flattening out her shirt a little and starting up the stairs and looking around the hallway. Vanium began to peek into some of the rooms the doors protected. One was an office. Another was full of old antiques and memories that the Highblood preserved. Yet nothing had fallen over, everything was in its rightful place.    
Vanium furrowed her brows in the midst of confusion. She knows she heard something fall, and then she felt a sudden brush of cold air. Turning her body she was now facing the steps that led to the third floor. A floor she wasn’t allowed onto, but if something up there had fallen or broken she’d be blamed for it anyways.    
She may as well go and inspect what happened, that’s what she thought at least. A sharp breath was caught in her throat, biting her lip Vanium put her foot on the first step. Slowly starting to ascend up the steps and to the door at the top. Her eyes locked on the doorknob, ears raised high listening for any noise of the Highblood stirring. The faint snoring continued as she continued to climb up the steps. Her fingertips grazed the railing, she held her breath in tight. Reaching and taking the doorknob, a small ‘ click ‘ when she turned it. Vanium peered into the room, taking in the new scent and scene.   
There was a large worn down couch with a dip in it’s cushions, claw marks upon it’s soft cloth. A deep yet faded red rug on the ground, deep and dark walls, barely any candles dispersed around the room. Many deathly close to being extinguished entirely. A large TV and a table littered with bowls and cups that the Highblood never seemed to clean. It smelled like apples, probably one of the candles. Burning to hide the scent of rotting food. Vanium opened the door more, exposing more of the room. A distant window with it’s glass doors being forced open from the cold, a knocked over book now flat on its cover from the harsh winds pouring in from the window. Curtains thrashing and struggling to escape into the air from the wind.   
Vanium swiftly stepped into the room, going to the window and shutting the two doors and using the small lock to close them again. The lock now clicked softly as the windows blocked the harsh winds. The Olivebloods fingers tingle from the cold, she let her hands fall onto the table under the window. Her eyes shut as she let her breath seep past her lips like a thick smoke. Then she felt something, like a thin parchment paper. Her eyes opened and she looked down at the table, scattered pieces of paper. Some with small paragraphs on them and others torn to pieces. She picked up one of the pieces, it was covered in dried blood.    
She put the piece of paper back onto the table, adjusting it to be in just the position she found it. Kneeling down she inspected the book and the papers around it. Turning over the book it was just a simple book about sewing, nothing special. Except for when Vanium opened the cover and looked at the first page. Written at the bottom in rather fancy olive writing was a note.   
  


* * *

_** Zoltox,    
You need to stop ripping your clothes so much! I can’t keep up with so many tattered shirts! I tease, but you should take up sewing sometime. Flushed for you!   
\- Danndi  ** _

* * *

The Highblood had a matesprit? It was certainly surprising to Vanium. Her wings fluffing up a little as she closed the book, picking up the papers she noticed scratch marks on the wall. Her eyes trailed up the wall to a dark cloth pinned to the wall. It drifted just a little off the ground, tattered and torn and yet still whole enough to cover something under it. Vanium shuffled the papers back into the book, holding them up to her chest with one hand. She used her free hand to move a bit of the cloth. A corkboard underneath, collecting many different pieces of paper and pictures. Each different, some torn or so worn the ink was fading.    
Her eyes narrowed and she stood up properly, setting the book back onto the table. She took one of the candles, it's small wick holding the dull flame. She approached the large corkboard. Pushing back the cloth once more, her wings opening a little behind her. Vanium held the candle out to the pictures and newspaper clippings. Squinting she could just barely make out the faded text. Yet the Headline was as bold as the beams of the sun at dawn.

* * *

LOCAL GUARD CULLS MATESPRIT TO FORTIFY LOYALTY TO HER IMPERIOUS CONDESCENSION. 

* * *

Upon yesterday's tragic news of more acid showers comes a tale this writer found worth telling. As of XX/XX The Lowblood Danndi Leyont has been brutally slaughtered by her own Matesprit. A witness says two other guards watched as the Highblood guard wrapped his arms around the Olives’ neck. ‘ She was trembling and yet smiling at him. Telling him it would be okay. The highbloods behind him kept snarling curses and it was truly horrific to watch.’ The witnesses to this brutal massacre of an innocent troll wish to not be disclosed for privacy sake. They report that he snapped her neck before proceeding to crush her skull. The pieces of bone and horn that came from her head were still littered on the Witnesses when this reporter spoke to them. Blood stained their shoes and when looking at the sight where her body was reported to have been, Olive has stained most of the vegetation nearby. This has been the writer of gorey culls this week, I shall report my next story next week. Remember, you are never safe.

* * *

There’s a small picture of the aforementioned Danndi Levont. Short hair, a bright smile on her face, curved horns oddly similar to Vanium’s but yet they were still different, with more rigids and along with the second one being shaped like a broken Ram Horn. She looked like what Vanium dreamed of, a normal Olive Blood troll. There were more headlines littering the rest of the wall, each reciting the story with the same alleged attack. Only a few citing Zoltox’s name.    
Was it hard for Vanium to believe that he would do something like this? Of course not, Vanium was well aware of his Homicidal abilities and often what he did to relieve these said tendencies. Yet from the way some of the cities reported the other guards talked to him, he may have been forced. Either way, it still added to the monster Vanium knew him as. There was a picture hanging in the center, smashed class covering what seemed to be a ripped photo. Zoltox and Danndi standing together with smiles on their faces. They both seemed happy together, it was odd to see the Highblood smiling so genuinely.    
His surly face contorting back to reveal those sharp sets of teeth, points meeting his skin, the piercing sparkle in his eyes was smudged by dried blood layered over the glass. Danndi stood with a bright smile on her lips, her hand interlocked with Zoltox’s as she looked at the viewer, The glass just below her chin shattered, it was like someone had aggressively slammed their face into the glass over and over again. Vanium let the cloth fall back over the corkboard, covering the pictures and news clippings.    
Her head hung low as her breath picked up, more of that soft fog poured from her lips as she panted. One hand coming up to touch her short locks of hair, gripping it suddenly. She let out the softest sound, it was one she had never made before. A growl, it ripped itself from her throat in a way that felt all too natural. Vanium turned her head to look towards the small closet-like room, noting the lock on it’s handle. Her ears flicked just a bit as her mind pondered, looking around the room. She could search for hours to look for a key here, but it’s much simpler to go downstairs and get the key from the key holder. She then bit her lip as she started towards the stairs, her feet glided on the cold flooring as she reached the doorknob.   



	8. Truths brought to the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanium does a little reading and finds out the truth.

She knew better than to calmly grab the key holder. Since she already knew each of the keys and their purpose. Her feet calmly stepped upon each step with an odd daintiness. Vanium knows each of the keys had a different room they went to. Each one was for a specific area, and she already knew them. There was one key she knew of, hidden in his front left pocket. She found it once when doing the laundry, and he got very angry with her. Vanium entered the hallway and swiftly made her way down the steps, her fingers dancing along the rail as she began to walk down the steps as if she hadn’t just entered the room she was forbidden from. She made her way to his body, laying on the couch asleep. Studying his features, her eyes narrowed just a little.   
Dark bags under cold unforgiving eyes, long uncut hair that trailed far past his shoulder blades. A surly face with scars and smudged face paint. A pair of suspenders holding up his purple shirt, very similar to her own white shirt. Vanium has two buttons by her collar, while his buttons line down the shirt to it’s hem. His pants are long and have patches littered around them at different spots, but a few areas remain unpatched despite desperately needing it. She leaned over him, her hand cautiously padding at his pocket, making sure she was right. Eventually she felt the metal through the cloth and let out a small chirp, one of excitement. Then promptly clasped her hand over her mouth and looked at Zoltox’s face. He didn’t move, still asleep with the faint blush of sickness on his face.   
Her hand trailed to the small slit of his pocket, reaching in and grasping the thin metal. Her ears pricked up as she then pulled her hand back from the pocket. Now she had the key, and a limited amount of time before Zoltox woke up. Turning away from him she then started back to the stairs. Her body cut through the air with ease, it was like she was on autopilot. Her body moving without her commanding it, she continued up the steps. Her grip tightening on the key in her hand as she walked up the steps. At one point she looked down at the key, holding it in her palm as she started up the second set of steps. She’s really going out on a limb here, if this key wasn’t it. What would it be then?    
Her mind began to ponder over the key and it’s true purpose, her mind was so engulfed into the strange key she had gone onto autopilot. Fiddling with the key in her palm, she unlocked the heavy lock keeping the door shut. It was heavy, and almost caused her to topple over. She held it with both hands, slowly lowering it to the ground and letting it lay on the cold floor. She could smell the faint scent of old parchment paper and dust, it filled her lungs in one quick breath. Vanium gagged a bit and stepped backwards, her wings opening and flapping just a bit to clear the air as the door slid open.    
The room itself was small, a built-in counter lining the walls. Candles set on different platforms, none of them lit, the only light being poured into the room from the now closed window. Vanium turned and went over to a nearby candle, picking it up, melted wax sliding down and nestling itself in the grooves of her fingers. The wax doesn’t hurt her anymore, she’s grown used to the pain and yet calm heat of it. Turning she brought it into the closet and began to light the candles. Burnt wicks are now alive once again as Vanium then swiftly returns the candle to it’s candelabrum. Entering the room again, her eyes could now make out the objects lining the walls. Letters, News Articles, pictures and paintings. Clothes with hand stitched images sewn into them, old alternian littered the walls, bloody hand prints smeared on the counter.    
She could feel her breath quicken, approaching the book seemingly put on a small pedestal. Bringing a hand up, she brushed her fingertips over the leather. It was thin and worn, delicate to the touch, it rippled just a little. Her fingertips reached the edge of the cover, she then began to open the book. Careful of the leathers bindings to make sure they didn’t tear, she got to the first page.  ‘ The Recordings of The Believers by The Onlooker’  Vanium stared at the cover page and it’s writing. She stood there looking at the book, turning it’s pages as she began to read a log. One of a Highblood that she had never met and will never meet. The first pages were rather simple, a troll going about his day and writing it down in a book. Then it soon took a turn, one Vanium found questionable. He went from speaking about his day and a rather boring life, to speaking of a group.

  


* * *

  


XX/XX   
  
This day is one with an extravagant way about it, I have found a collective of others who think similar to me. We weren’t put here by simple fate or a lucky chosen one. We are the barriers to protect something greater. The very world we live in is under the constant threat of something monstrous breaking through. The lonely feeling you acquire as you rest within your hive? Tis not the overbearing loneliness, it is the danger weighing down upon your very being. We are sent as pawns to be a part of something larger than we could ever imagine. Gods of olden ages, older than our time at this very second I write. They sent us down to protect our descendants and continue to deflect the Monsters' need to break into our realm and destroy our very beings. The Geneticist. He is our leader and preacher, he only spews the truth about how we can satisfy the Gods above who have appointed us with our very purpose. He is truly a troll of great will to lead us on. I only hope and pray I can continue to fulfill what he requests of us.    
  


  * \- - - - - - - - - - -




XX/XX    
  
I attended my first sermon today, truly I have never felt more alive. I could feel my blood flowing through my being as Jargon preached. There is a large cage beside him upon the stage, today it was covered but there is a shuffling inside of it. Perhaps it is some form of Lusi we shall sacrifice. I can not dwell on that idea for long however, due to the sheer amount of power that seems to fill the room when Jargon speaks. I have never felt so alive in all my sweeps of living.   
  
\- - - - - - - - - - - 

Vanium paused her reading when something slid from the book. It fell to the ground with a small thud and slid a little under the counter. She kneeled down and picked up the object, a small doll. It's rather small and soft to the touch, small feathers stitched on the back and a rag tied around the body. A voodoo doll, it’s face stitched with two buttons and a smile, one of the buttons treading on falling off due to the tiny pieces of thread holding it on. Vanium held the doll close before continuing to read. Idly brushing her fingers over the feathers stitched into it’s back to make wings.   
  
\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
XX/XX   
  
A small child was following around Jargon today, due to the similar horn shape and Jargon treating him rather well, I presume it to be his descendant. He was holding a tin and seemed to be standing around the cage often, talking to whatever was under the blanket over top of it. I could not find a single moment within Jargon’s preaching to ask him for the descendants name. Yet I did not have to worry, the child told me himself. His name is Rozene Marclo, and he was making a gift for someone. I assume he had stood around the cage to collect feathers. Since he now held a doll with feathers pressed to it’s back. I offered him a sewing needle and he took it with intense excitement. Not once did I see a smile leave that child's face. I feel as though he will be happy to take over his Ancestors position when the time comes.   
  
\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
Vanium looked from the log, to the doll in her hands. The stitching was rather beginner, small bites having come undone from years of either being played with or forgotten. Her ears lowered just a touch as she brushed the dolls fake wings. Then she returned to the reading, turning the page and finding a sketch. A large room, the details barely scribbled in, and a cage. In the cage stood a troll, one that looked like an angel in almost every way. White wings and perfect stance, the tattered clothes she wore didn’t fit the proud look the artist had given her.    
  
\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
XX/XX   
  
The veil has been lifted to reveal what hid within that cage's confines. A female troll, an Olive blood from what I could catch of her eyes. She has grand white wings like that of a dove and a rather pleasing face. Jargon deemed her to be our Angel, the one who preaches the gospel of the Gods. She’s a step away from truly being like the Olden Gods. Jargon spoke openly of how she was gifted to him and how he has raised her just as the Gods Instructed. Her name is Brutus Mardre. We got the lucky opportunity to ask one question . She stood with a rather calm and collected look but there was a bright glow in her eyes. I have a hunch that this was her first time ever seeing a crowd such as ours. Alas this does not matter to me, I only care for when she preaches the truth of the gods above us and how we shall satisfy them to keep the dangers at bay.   
  
\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
A confused look graced her face as she reread that last paragraph over and over. Her fingers drifting over the corner of the page in a rhythmic pattern. That troll had the same last name as her. Vanium Mardre, that was her name, the only thing that made her an individual in this hellhole. The only thing that made her who she is. Vanium’s mind began to ponder over such an idea, skepticism now taking the rise over her entire thought process.  No, that can’t be right. Just a very similar coincidence that's all. Her mind of course wasn’t won over by such a feeble argument, so she turned the page. More writings, each describing the sermons, the bird troll, and then it was near the end that things began to shift.   
  
\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -    
  
xx/xx   
  
Something quite awful seems to have taken place, I arrived late this eve to find that the entire building we had taken root in has been obliterated by flames. The only remaining embers of the earth I walked seemed to explain to me what had happened. The area we had taken shelter in was an underground memorial center of sorts, one once abandoned and given new purpose once more. I found when entering the stairway, the door had been completely blasted through, bits and pieces hinting at something being stabbed through it. There was a thick fog of smoke that erupted from the mouth of the stairway, but that was gone as fast as it came. I found our beloved gathering quarters to have been set ablaze, by what I can observe something on the stage. I did however find that there was a back area to the stage quarters. With no one else there, I decided to indulge my curiosity. Entering the area I was greeted by a large cold room, nothing burned besides the entrances and above the door.There are many destroyed tests and cages, viles full of liquids of multiple colors. Bookshelves tossed to the ground and large tubes of what seemed to be the remnants of a preserver liquid to keep bodies intact. There were more winged troll creatures, but from one the broken viles a tester is missing. All in the likeness of Brutus but a few seemed rather… Defective. One had small horns even for a grub, one was more bird than troll, and one was a full blow wriggler. Yet it was dead from the glass being broken. Brutus herself seems to have escape her cage due to it being toppled down and the door being wide open. Yet there is another color that must have committed this heinous act of harming our facility. The Azures, and their idiotic revolution against highbloods. They began this not too long ago, and it is rather ridiculous. They fight the very things that allow them the life they have. I cannot wait to watch them die out like the worthless waste of troll DNA they are.    
  
  
\--------   
  
xx/xx   
  
I have collected more data on what happened that night from other members of the collective. Brutus rebelled against Jargon, she broke her cage down and fled the facility with the Azure bloods. Jargon claims that she is no longer a part of the collective, she has rebelled and thus is a defective angel. A defective angel must be purged less it should defame and slander the name of the gods with its existence. This bird shall not remain free, while she rides off the backs of the Azures’ she cannot hide with them for long. Her wall shall falter and the gods will reap what she has sown. It is truly like riding the high of pleasure when watching this take place, it feels as though my hands cannot stop moving. The Azures’ fight the Highbloods, the Midblood fought a Reaper, it is truly never ending in it’s dramatics. I find this to be sheer ecstasy to me, a euphoria that only I can feel. I cannot wait to see how it ends.   
  
\---------   
  
The logs ended, at least the Onlookers’ writings finished here, and something else was in the rest of the book. Loose letters that peeked out of the ends of the book. Vanium’s hand trembled, her wings opening slowly as she squeezed the tiny doll close to her body. Her breath picking up as she began to compute what this story was telling her. There was someone  made  to be an angel, and that troll is her ancestor. She was made as the next angel in a line of them, and yet in the mass murder of the entire group she was spared. Vanium was spared the sweet escape of existence and her Ancestor proceeded to join a rebellion? Her ears lowered as her grip on the doll tightened. Some sick, sadistic and unforgiving highblood created her… For this demented cult? Her fangs dug into her bottom lip as she began to dig her nails into the small doll. Pausing only a moment after to look at it, the poor doll's button eyes looked at her.   
She was holding a voodoo doll of her own ancestor, her fingers coming up to brush the cloth that acted like hair back into place. Vanium bit her lip and let out a shaky unstable breath. That candle within her very being, the one that barley glowed in the darkness, it began to spark. A faint wind brushing on it’s flame. Yet she kept herself as calm as possible, starting to read more into the books. Letters from other highbloods to Zoltox. Ones that spoke of her like an item, Zoltox wrote about her like she was a trophy. Something no one else had but him. Vanium’s grip tightened on the letters as she reached one that seemed to strike something in.   
  


  


* * *

  


Darling friend Zoltox,   
  
I recall you speaking of the animal you have obtained, the grub of Brutus’ descent? Where did you find such an exquisite thing? Is she alive or dead like her companions? You must forgive my questions, yet after such a discovery that the descendant of our very own Angel is still alive? I am rather interested in learning about this odd creature.    
  
Your acquaintance ,   
U.O   
  
U.O   
  
Yeah, I have the kid. She’s a grub from what I can tell she’s rather close to molting. Her name is Vanium Mardre according to the auctioneer. I got her from that shady Violetblood auctioneer near the ports, he charged a pretty boondollar for her, but she’s in mint condition. Wings are in tact, lusus is still alive, the only thing strange about her is the wings. Her wings are brown, not white. I feel if I presented her to the collective now as she is, they’d reject her as just a mutant grub than the angel of our day. She’s mine now though, so I may keep her from the collective for a while. Use her for her boondollars worth.   
  
\- ZT   
  
Zoltox,   
  
I understand paying a high price for our beloved Angel, but keeping her from the collective shall now help us satisfy the gods and protect our world. You are a reasonable troll, so I feel we can come to some agreement, yes? Perhaps you keep her for half of her sweeps, and the collective takes her when she is little older?   
  
Your acquaintance,    
U.O   
  
  
U.O

  
Yeah I am rather reasonable, when it comes to basic things. Yet this isn’t basic, this is the new Angel. I’m keeping her, but I’ll compromise with you. Here’s an ultimatum, you get the kid when I deem her to be fit to take Brutus’ place. Maybe when she’s Nine or Ten sweeps. She’s mine until then, I’ll make her work off what she cost.    
\- ZT   
  
Zoltox,   
  


If that is truly the one way the collective will be able to meet this young ‘ Vanium’, then we accept your ultimatum. So long as you keep your word when the time comes. Thank you for your contribution to the collective, and I will see you the day you tell me the new Angel is ready. She will truly fill Brutus’ place as the ultimate sacrifice.   
  
Your leader,   
U.O   
  
  


  


* * *

  


  
Vanium shuddered from the words, she was made just for this demented cult of highbloods? Zoltox was just keeping her alive because he was gonna give her away to some of his pals to be culled as an offering to gods that weren’t even real? She shoved the letters back into the book and tossed it back onto the pedestal with almost no care in the movement. Her ears flaring up as she began to growl, the sound ripping from her throat as a deep cold sound. Much like that of the highbloods that she hears often.   
Wait… No. She breathed, inhaling in slowly and exhaling even slower. To let her rage consume her made her no better than Zoltox. She has to wait, to let the rage simmer and strengthen like a fine wine, and figure out a plan. She’ll cull him before he ever gets the chance to cull her. Vanium exited the room, holding the doll in her hands she kneeled down and picked up the lock. Clicking it closed over the door handles chain. Her mind raced as she headed towards the door, her hand gliding over the handle with ease as she then started back downstairs. Shutting the door with a tainted calmness.    
She easily walked down the steps, her breath slowing as she forced her body to calm itself, that flame inside of her dulling slowly as she reached the last step. Her wings starting to open as she entered her room, hiding the doll in the small area between her recuperacoon and the wall. Vanium’s wings opened as she went to the small cage. Lifting the small cloth covering it, a large pure white bird sat on a tiny swing. It’s white feathers glistened as a deceptive olive eye looked at Vanium. It gazed at her features, the engendered rage pulsing through her body now only reflected in her eyes as her hand entered the cage.    
“ SQUAWK! Is something wrong, child? SQUAWK!”   
“ Nothing. Everything makes sense now.”   
“ SQUAWK! What kind of nonsense talk is this? SQUAWK!”   
“ I know who I am. That is not nonsense, you’re the one making no sense with those silly squawks.”   
“ SQUAWK! Do not insult my way of speech! SQUAWK!”   
“ Why? I think it’s funny.”   
“ SQUAWK! Because I am your mother! SQUAWK!”   
“ No, you aren’t. You’re just a pretty bird.”   
Vanium cooed, her fingers gently stroking the bird's feathers on the top of it’s head. It opened its beak to make a noise, and then fell silent. Only letting it’s head lean into Vanium’s brisk strokes as she continued to care for the other. Vanium stayed like this for a while, just petting her Lusus as it made happy churrs and chirps towards her. Kneeling down she picked up the cloth from before and draped it back over the cage. Her ears flicking ever so slightly as her mind began to think. A plan, she needed a plan to bring the monster and his petulance to an end.    



	9. Don't you wanna go Apeshit?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> : )

A rough voice shocked her back to reality as it called from down the hall.   
“ KID!”  
Vanium straightened out her body, those cold eyes defaulting on as they trailed to the door. Hatred within her core and yet a facade of simple confusion was detectable on her face. Starting out of her room she headed down the steps in a rush. Her acting was rather immaculate as she stepped into the room and tilted her head. A confused trill leaving her lips as she looks at the troll lying draped over the couch.   
Zoltox stared at the Olive as she stood at the base of the steps. Her hand just barely drifting on the rail as it curved around the wall, her wings opened in apprehension. Dark short hair lining her face, her lips parted just a bit, and worry etched into her face. Zoltox’s blurred vision was something he didn’t bother fixing, motioning for the other to come over to him. Vanium listened, coming over to the Highblood at his request. His hands came up and trailed over her hips, grabbing her and bringing her onto the couch with him. Curving his body and resting on the couch with the Olive now pressed against him.  
Vanium was so flummoxed from the sudden feeling of hands upon her body that she had no time to ask what he was doing. Now pressed into the Highbloods body in a spooning motion. Facing away from him as he rested his head upon her head. Vanium now not having to worry about him seeing her face, let her act fall. The Olive’s face contorted to one of sheer emptiness. Her wings pressed against the other's torso as his arms wrapped around her waist. Her ears lowering as she was brought against his body.  
“ Needed some warmth…”  
“ I could’ve heated up your towel ma-”  
“ No. Live warmth.”   
“ Oh.”  
“ You’re so small.”  
“ Well, what did you expect me to be? A giant?”  
Vanium’s laugh was hollow, her ears flicking just a bit as she felt his arms tighten around her. The rumble that came from his chest as he laughed sent vibrations all throughout her body Her wings rattled just a little as disgust filled her. She felt like she should’ve ripped out her tongue right then and there.   
“ Kid. You… You’re somethin’ special.”  
“ I am? I believe I’m a kinda bad slave, Sir.”  
“ No, you aren’t. You’re so much more than just a slave. Or a mutant.”  
Contradictions laced his words as they poured from his lips. Vanium let her mind wander as he spoke to her. Then she felt his hand come up and tilt her head back.  
_**“ You’re mine.”** _  
The words made her body suddenly ignite within, her cold demeanor still remaining as the flame within her body pulsed with life. Zoltox’s breath was heavy upon her neck, cold and shallow as he began to litter her neck with kisses and nips. The feelings caused her to jerk her body at times, trying to maybe bring sense back to him.  
“ Kid, Calm down, it’s just a hickey.”  
It seems her plan-making would be put on a halt, this suddenly felt more important than making a plan. This burning pulse that coursed through her vibes, her breath picking up as one hand came up to grasp one of the Highbloods horns. His ears lifting just a little as he then began to purr. Bringing the Olive close, her legs pressing together, and her feet pressing on his knees. Vanum’s grip on his horn tightened as he started to let his hands wander. One on her waist and the other resting just below her breast.   
His breath turning ragged slowly as he rocked his body against hers, and the small troll allowed her body to press into his. Her grip on the base of his horn tightening a bit more.   
_**“ My pretty bird.”**_  
Vanium’s mind was destroyed by those words. The candle that once burned a simple flame now burst into a raging forest fire. An untapped and sudden strength coursed through her body as her head was suddenly slammed into his chest. Vanium’s once hollow olive eyes now were dilated to such an extreme that none of her soft yellow sclerae could be seen. Only the deep enraged Olive and pitch raven black of her pupil visible.   
Mind now engulfed in sheer unmatched rage, she dug her dull nails into his horns. Lurching her body forward she could hear the sickening snap that came along with the faint spurting and splattering of blood. Landing on her palm and feet she crouched down like some savage animal. Her other hand now held his large sharp horn as the Highblood shoved himself and the couch back. One hand covering his now bleeding open wound, snarling the sick Highblood began to bring himself to his feet.   
“ WHAT THE HEL-”  
There was a sudden force in his lower abdomen, Vanium’s large brown wings spread wide as she slammed her legs into his stomach. Sending him into the couch once again as the small Olie straddled him. Her finger pressed over his mouth as she turned the horn in her hand. Her hips rocked against his as she sat up and let him gaze into her eyes, rage flowed through her body. Zoltox for once in sweeps felt fear coarse through his body, staring down at the cold black eyes of the Olive as she smiled at him.   
“ Shhhh…”   
She whispered quietly to him.  
“ K-Kid wait-”  
“ Master, you’re very bad at following instructions.”  
She taunts, waving a single finger at him before reeling her arm back, plunging his horn into his chest. Her wings spreading wide as she felt the pleasuring feeling of his blood pour through her thin fingers.  
“ Bad listeners get punished!~”   
Vanium chirped as she turned the horn in his chest, it’s sharp rigid cutting deep through his skin and muscle as she pushed harder. Her head coming up towards his neck, Zoltox going to grab her neck only to be met with a harsh smack. So his other hand came up to try and dislodge the horn while she continued to drive it in.  
Vanium didn’t seem to like this, so she punished him once more. Her breath tickling his skin before a sudden sharp burst of pain filled his neck. His hand falling to the ground as blood spewed from his head and chest. Pooling onto the couch as Vanium let her wings fall to be half-open. Pulling back she grinned at him, bits of his skin and muscle hanging from her teeth as thick purple blood dribbled off her chin.   
“ What’s wrong Master? _It’s just a hickey.~_ ”  
Her eyes shifted, back to their normal state as she let a demented dark smile grow upon her lips. Her grip on his horn loosening as she then softly came up to cup his face. Brushing her fingers across his cheek as she pursed her lips.  
“ I know what you did, and I want you to know this.”  
She sat up, bringing herself close to his ear as she suddenly deepened her voice, making it almost husky. Her ears perking up to listen to his trembling breath as blood poured into the couch’s soft fabric.  
“ She will never forgive you.”  
“ K-Kid…”  
“ Hmm?”  
“ Kid… Knock it off… I won’t hurt you j-just take me to the hospital.”  
“ Oh Master, I don’t care for your empty promises. ”  
Vanium purred out the words in a cold cruel voice, sitting back on his lap. She watched Zoltox fumble and sputter out words as blood began to seep from the corners of his lips. Tears welling in his eyes as Vanium watched him die, intent on watching the very bastard who wanted to kill her, now die at her hand. The pleasure that flowed through her body as she watched his breath leave his lips, it was exhilarating. For once, out of every dream and every night terror, she wasn’t the one dying. The smile upon her face was the first that truly displayed untouched genuine happiness. Her wings fluffed up as she rested her hands on his chest and watched his eyes slowly gloss over.   
Once she was sure he was dead, breath gone and his bloodpusher silent, she stood up. Leaving his horn inside his body she headed towards the main door. Walking without a care in the world, she headed outside, still covered in blood and pulling bits of muscle strings from her teeth. She waved for the other slaves to come gather around. They ran over once a few noticed the blood upon her shirt, and the bright grin on her lips. They began to berate her with questions about why she was covered in the vibrant purple.  
“ He’s dead! I killed him!”  
She’s never looked happier, that bright smile on her face as burgundy tenderly pushed a lock of her hair back. The slaves entering the hive behind her as a few kneeled down to look the small troll over. Checking her body to make sure she wasn’t hurt, The Goldblood from nights prior kneeling down and brushing Vanium’s cheek with a ginger touch.   
“ You okay?”  
“ Mhmm! I culled Master, everyone is free now!”  
“ Except you…”  
“ Pfft, I’ll be okay! If I can cull a troll at my age, I’m sure I can take care of myself!”  
Vanium chirped out the words, laughing softly as she looked at the Goldblood and their bright eyes. Her Olive eyes now illuminated with life as she held their hands tightly. Her wings fluffing up just a little before she hugged the Goldblood and pressed her face into their shoulder.  
“ Just live a fun life for me, that’s all I want!”  
“ … I can do that.”  
The Goldblood retorted, softly hugging the Olive close. Their arms secure around her body as she held onto them. The small five sweep old Olive stepping back after a little to wipe away small tears in her eyes. Putting her hands on her hips she gave a big, rather silly grin.   
“ Let’s bury the body in the garden! Then he can actually turn into something useful!”   
The Goldblood chortled just a little from what she suggested.   
“ Not a bad idea.”   
They stood up and started into the hive with the others, who seemed to be taking in the decor and then the body of their Master. Now lying dead in a pool of his own blood. Vanium following behind the Goldblood, holding their hand with a small smile on their face. Some Slaves were absolutely mortified by the fact the small slave had done such damage to a Highblood. Yet others were impressed and all were equally grateful to be free from the chains that bound them to this land. A few gave her soft pats on the back, and the Goldblood spoke.  
“ Let us do one last thing before we leave this place, we help the child bury the body.”  
The others seemed more than happy to do so, the Bronzes starting to lift the body and bringing it to the garden. The Garden itself was protected by tall stone walls with tiny spiked fences that lined the top. It was a large area, yet most of the vegetation had died off ages ago beside a few stray trees and bramble bushes.  
Vanium found a perfect area, a small shady corner, she grabbed a shovel and stabbed it into the ground. Tossing the dirt aside, she began to dig, and not so long after the other slaves followed. Digging and digging they took a decent amount of the night before they found the hole to be deep enough. Throwing his body into the ground, the Burgundy’s slid the dirt back over the grave of the Highblood. Vanium planting a few rose seeds within the shallow dirt. A bright grin upon her face as she looked to the rest of the Slaves.  
“ You’re free now. It’s the end of him. The end of this.”  
“ What will happen to you, Child?”  
One bronze questioned, tilting her head as she adjusted her glove.  
“ I’ll… I’ll live here! I’ll be my own troll!”  
A few slaves seemed fine with this answer, others a bit more apprehensive. Although they didn’t want to linger upon this land for much longer. Even if they had just buried his body, they felt like any moment the Master would come around to whip them for betrayal. So they began to leave. Vanium smiling to herself as she watched them go off on their way, a few taking tools or food for their walk. She didn’t stop them, only pursing her lips and cursing to herself.  
“ Damnit… Now I have to get rid of the couch…” 


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a fun lil thing.

  
There’s a rather annoyed sigh, a troll sitting in a large hammock of her living block. Wings adjusting behind her body as she laid with a tablet in her hands. This troll's name is Vanium Mardre and as of today she is now 9 sweeps old, around nineteen for a human. Open before her is a small writing application. One that seems to use now to log her thoughts and feelings. This tablet was not her own of course, it was a deep purple, and most likely something she ordered under Zoltox’s name. Ah the great luxuries of using a dead mans’ name. Though now he wasn’t entirely dead. His body allowed for beautiful deep purple roses to grow from the ground.  
Vanium was wearing a much better outfit than from when she was younger in her opinion, a black top that was fitted to her body, her pants were puffy and loose. Cuffing off just a little ways past her knees, her hair was much longer now. Hanging just a little past her shoulders and yet brushed out rather nicely. A cloth hangs from around her neck and covers over her chest and her left arm. It’s fitted from an old piece of blanket she found in the cellar.   
She lived by herself, mainly obtaining food by growing it herself in the fields. Or using Zoltox’s name and ordering things as his matesprit. It works rather well since no one seems to bother the alleged murderous highblood who lives by himself in the woods. Even if now it was only a lone mutant Olive blood vigilante hellbent on murdering all the Highbloods in the cult that had created her. Vanium now turning her attention towards the window for a moment, the woodland area looking back at her.   
Slowly, her eyes drifted back to the faintly glowing tablet before her, Vanium tapping on it and bringing it back to life. Upon the screen was a decent amount of writing from the bird. Her ears flicking as she rolled over to lay on her stomach in the hammock. It rocked a little with her body as the Z.V blared some rather idiotic reality show. Vanium continues to diligently type away on her tablet while the show plays without catching any of her interest.  
  
**_Vanium Mardre,_**  
 ** _XX/XX_**  
  
 ** _Today was quite eventful if I say so myself, starting off I finished my last book in the series and I have to say. It fucking sucked, appearantly the orginal writer got culled and they had some other completely unrelated midblood finish it. Which was such a dumbass choice on their part because the characters sucked! Almost everyone acted out of character and the ending with the demented kraken showing up was just so stupid. I would not recommend it to anyone, besides the first four books, and then just erase the fifth one. After that rather poor excuse of an ending, I decided to go on a fly to get out my frustrations. I went a little over my normal boundaries of the forest and this weird ass fog appeared. Seriously it was darker than when I got locked in the basement when I was little. I had to land and almost crashed into a tree which was kinda embarrassing. It was fine for a bit before these weird ghost things appeared, they stared at me and I stared back, thinking I’d have to be stuck in some cursed fucking staring contest with these fuckers. Turns out they actually wanted to rip my limbs from my body, which wouldn’t be the first time someone wanted that. Though I can confirm I’m not too into the whole ‘ Rip my arms off daddy’ thing. So I wasn’t too thrilled to be caught up with them, but then this guy appeared. He had this really ‘ I’m an edgelord ‘ sort of thing about him, he had chains on his wrists from what I could tell. The fog was thick as fuck so that really didn’t help me out. He could control the ghosts and said that because he was in a ‘ good mood’, I was spared. Honestly I think he just wasn’t in the mood to watch some random troll get ripped to bits. That’s neither here nor there though, since either way he got me out of that mess. I don’t know what about this edgelord guy stuck out to me, but he felt weird… I don’t mean I touched him, I mean he had an aura aside from the fucking edgelord loner thing. He felt familiar. Like I know him from somewhere, but I don’t know where. I know he’s not DR, since I know who he is and he works in the west but I went north. So as much as I would totally love the idea of DR saving me from a pack of ravage ghosts, I doubt it was him. That was a joke to any future version of myself reading this. I wanna know who that guy was, he just felt all too familiar for me to not know him, but then again, I don’t wanna get culled by a bunch of weird mutant blue ghosts. After that I rea_ **  
  
Her rather indepth note taking was interrupted by a small notification in the corner of her screen. Vanium tapped on it and it opened her Trollian App, the familiar jade colored name ‘ deceasedRomancer’ lighting up and then dulling, then repeating that same notion of lighting up and dulling. She tapped on the user and sat herself up in her hammock. Her wings spreading out as she stretched and read out the others message.  
  
  


* * *

  
_deceasedRomancer [DR]_ began pestering _diligentConsolist [DC]_ at ??:??:??  
  
DR: Alr÷ght, ÷ have f÷n÷$hed w÷th one of my pat÷ent$.  
  
DR: $o you w÷$hed to talk aθout $ometh÷ng that happened earl÷er today, DC?  
  
DR: My apolog÷e$ ÷ couldn’t θe around at the t÷me, ÷ wa$ deal÷ng w÷th $ometh÷ng the pat÷ent had caused.   
  
DC: It’s 0kay DR.  
  
DC: Did it expl0d3 lik3 that 0n3 b0dy y0u t0ld m3 ab0ut?  
  
DR: Unfortunately for your amu$ement, ÷t d÷d not explode.   
  
DC: : (   
  
DR: ÷t was someth÷ng a θ÷t more me$$y to handle.  
  
DR: θut ÷ $hall tell you more about the gorey deta÷l$ ÷t another time.  
  
DR: What d÷d you want to talk about aga÷n?  
  
DC: 0h y3ah!  
  
DC: Y0u kn0w any cr33py f0r3st p30pl3?  
  
DR: Only dead one$ ÷’m afra÷d.  
  
DC: Damn  
  
DC: 0kay I ran int0 this f0r3st guy t0day.  
  
DC: W3ll, h3 wasn’t actually mad3 0f f0r3st  
  
DC: H3 was a n0rmal tr0ll  
  
DC: Blu3bl00d mayb3?  
  
DR: Oh?  
  
DC: Y3ah!   
  
DC: What’s w3ird3r is th3 fact that th3r3 w3r3 lik3, gh0st tr0lls 3v3rywh3r3, and th3y want3d t0 cull m3 and I was pr3tty sur3 I was ab0ut t0 di3.  
  
DR: Oh my,  
  
DR: Well ÷ would’ve θeen aθle to f÷nd your lovely θody then.  
  
DC: I f33l scar3d th3 day y0u find my c0rps3 and d0 all that w3ird aut0spy stuff  
  
DC: Th3 id3a 0f my ch3st b3ing pri3d 0p3n isn’t v3ry app3aling.  
  
DC: 0r b3ing d3ad in g3n3ral.  
  
DC: I’v3 f3lt what b3ing d3ad is lik3 b3f0r3 and I can giv3 it a wh0l3 0n3 star, did n0t 3nj0y it what s0 3v3r.  
  
DC: . . .   
  
DC: DR?  
  
DR: Ah ye$, my apolog÷e$.  
  
DR: ÷ may have $tarted to daydream.  
  
DR: That ha$ θecome more frequent when ÷ $peak with you.  
  
DC: I was g0nna ask why, but th3n s0m3thing in my gut t0ld m3 I w0uldn’t lik3 that answ3r.  
  
DC: S0 anyways,  
  
DC: Cr33py f0r3st guy l3t m3 g0, but I f3lt s0m3thing  
  
DR: L÷ke a flu$hed someth÷ng?  
  
DR: DC, ÷f you are truly th÷$ $ecluded you are alway$ welcome to v÷$÷t me.   
  
DR: ÷ alway$ enjoy a θ÷t of l÷v÷ng company at t÷me$.  
  
DC: What?  
  
DC: N0 y0u dumbass, I’m n0t c0mpl3t3ly v0id 0f any tr0ll c0ntact that th3 m0m3nt I m33t a living tr0ll I instantly fall f0r th3m.  
  
DC: That s0unds lik3 s0m3 dumb pl0t 0f th0s3 w3ird r0manc3 b00ks wriggl3rs r3ad.  
  
DC: 0n3s ab0ut Shad0w dr0pp3rs and Rainb0w drink3rs  
  
DC: I’m is0lat3d fr0m 0th3rs sur3, but n0t that d3sp3rat3 f0r a mat3sprit.  
  
DC: I’m fin3 living by mys3lf  
  
DC: Hav3 b33n sinc3 I was 5 sw33ps 0ld  
  
DC: I m3ant lik3 I just kn3w th3 guy

DR: Knew h÷m?  
  
DR: θut you don’t talk to anyone θe$÷de$ RP and I from what ÷ can tell.  
  
DC: 3xactly, that’s why it was s0 w3ird!  
  
DC: But I f3lt it, it was just s0 strang3. I kn0w it c0uld just b3 my thinkpan pulling a ‘ fuck y0u bitch!’ 0n m3 again.  
  
DC: Which w0uldn’t surpris3 m3 r3ally.  
  
DR: Doe$ your th÷nkpan really do that often?  
  
DR: Or ÷s th÷s just you exaggerat÷ng aga÷n?  
  
DC: Figure it 0ut.  
  
DC: : )  
  
DR: Ah, exaggerat÷on.   
  
DC: Ding ding ding!~  
  
DC: W3 hav3 a winn3r!~  
  
DR: Oh? What do ÷ w÷n?  
  
DR: A k÷$$ perhap$?  
  
DC: Y0u wish  
  
DR: Oh now ÷ feel like ÷ have θeen cheated of a true pr÷ze!  
  
DC: K33p talking and y0u’ll f33l m0r3 than ch3at3d!  
  
DC: That s0und3d way m0r3 pitch3d than I int3nd3d.  
  
DC: N0w I f33l stupid.  
  
DR: ÷f ÷t make$ you feel θetter, I laughed.  
  
DC: That d03sn’t mak3 m3 f33l much b3tt3r  
  
DC: But I appr3ciat3 th3 th0ught.  
  
DR: You sa÷d the$e gho$t troll$ were go÷ng to cull you.  
  
DR: So ÷ mu$t a$k, are you alr÷ght DC?  
  
DC: Oh uh 

  
DC: Y3ah I’m fin3.  
  
DC: Just a f3w scratch3s fr0m alm0st hitting a tr33.  
  
DR: You need to θe more careful.  
  
DC: I kn0w I kn0w.  
  
DC: But th3r3 was a f0g and it was blinding, I c0uldn’t s33 th3 tr33s until I actually start3d scraping 0n th3m.  
  
DR: Well, next t÷me just try to be a θ÷t more careful DC.  
  
DR: ÷ don’t want you getting hurt.  
  
DC: W3ll n0w l00k wh0 sudd3nly is b3ing caring  
  
DC: Y0u hav3 s0m3thing y0u wanna shar3 with th3 class DR?  
  
DR: Haha.   
  
DR: Very funny DC.  
  
DC: H3y! Y0u lik3 my j0k3s and y0u kn0w it.  
  
DR: Whatever make$ you $leep θetter lovely.  
  
DC: > : /   
  
DR: : )  
  
DC: I can’t b3 mad at y0u and I hat3 that.  
  
DC: Y0u’r3 just  
  
DC: UGH!  
  
DC: DR  
  
DR: Ye$ DC?  
  
DC: Can I m33t y0u?  
  
DR: Meet me?  
  
DR: Aren’t you $÷ck?  
  
DC: N0, that’s just what I t3ll 3v3ry0n3.  
  
DC: S0 I’ll ask again, can w3 m33t?  
  
DR: ÷ don’t $ee why we $houldn’t meet.  
  
DC: H3h. Y0u’ll find 0ut s00n 3n0ugh.  
  
DC: S3nd m3 th3 c00rdinat3s 0f y0ur w0rk again  
  
DR: W÷ll do.  
  
DR: $ee you $oon, DC.  
  
deceasedRomancer [DR] has sent their location.  
  
diligentConsolist [DC] has ceased pestering deceasedRomancer [DR] at ??:??:??  
  
Vanium smiled as she closed out of her tablet, sliding out of her hammock the troll started out of the house. Each step she took with purpose and that smile remaining on her lips. Rolling her arms back a little she excited the hive. Vanium inhaled taking in that sharp crisp breath of air. Her eyes opening to reflect the soft glow of the moons above. Large brown wings opening as she lowered to the ground just a bit, bracing herself as a bright grin was now resting on her lips. Her wings encapsulated the very image of power in just one quick burst of energy she was off the ground and in the air.   
Vanium’s wings cut through the air with ease, her wings flapped without her even needing to try. Leaning forward was all she had to do to force her body to go further into the sky. Bringing her high above the tree tops and just below the clouds. Vanium began to fly, away from her hive and over the forest. She liked to be daring while she flew, bringing her hand down to brush over the fern trees ends only to bring her hand up after just a few seconds. Not wanting her hand to get rubbed raw from the simple action.   
Vanium eventually found herself slowing her flight, looking at her palmhusk. The bird wing shaped displaying the coordinates and how far she was from them. In the distance was a rather noticeable splice in the trees. She began to fly towards the area, landing in a rather large tree and peering into the open area. A large sign with ‘ Morgue’ printed in deep black letters, sitting beside a rather overused dirt road. In front of the alleged morgue stood a young man. A long scientist coat drifting only inches from the ground as he shifted his weight back and forth. A dark mask covering his face, it seemed to be like those Plague Doctors she’s seen in old time based movies. His horns seemed to have a distinct knife shape to them.  
Hands placed on the branch under her, Vanium leaned forward and watched his movements. His head turning ever so slightly at times, like he’s looking for someone on the road. Her palmhusk buzzing for a moment as it notified her she was at her destination. Her wings opening behind her, she hopped off the tree branch and quietly landed on the ground. Starting to walk towards the other, she seemed to have startled him for a second.  
“ Oh! You appeared out of nowhere…”  
“ DR?”  
“ DC? Well, you certainly don’t look sick…”  
“ Of course I don’t dumbass. I never was.”  
“ … If you had let me finish, I was going to say you look radiant.”  
Vanium’s ears raised a bit, looking at the Plague Doctor’s eyes she began to smile. Her fangs now being shown off as her wings opened just a little. Hands resting in her pockets, a faint chuckle leaving her lips as she looked the Jadeblood over.  
“ You look very handsome for what I was expecting DR.”  
“ Gikore.”  
“ Huh?”  
“ My name is Gikore Messor, DC.”  
“ Heh, Gikore… Well, My name is Vanium, Vanium Mardre.”   
“ Vanium… That’s a lovely name. A pleasure to meet you”  
“ The pleasure is all mine, my friend.”


End file.
